The Day Before
by Aggie Escott
Summary: New Aaron centric story. He goes to get some cash from the ATM with Jack Reid and Rossi.Aaron whump, and some Spence whump for PB. Violence, AH/OMC noncon, no slash. Please R&R for me, Oh lovely ppl CHANGED RATING TO T FOR CHAPTER 7 ONWARDS
1. The ATM

**The Day Before **

Chapter 1  
The ATM

"_**In Lowell, Indiana, there was a four-hour hostage standoff in a bank. The bank customers were made to line up and stand still for hours . . . just like in a regular visit."**__** - **__** Bill Maher **_

Aaron Hotchner had done it. He had been given a clean bill of health by the doctors, and he had passed his physical and psych evaluation to return to the BAU. He still walked with a limp, and couldn't run as well as he used to. Sometimes he still bled, if he ran or fought too hard, but the doctor had said that might never heal completely. But the most lethal wounds, those deep in his heart and mind, they were pretty well patched up. He had had to re-learn how precious life was, but the lesson had been easy with the teachers he had been blessed with.

It felt strange, the weight of his gun on his belt and ankle, and the feeling of his FBI ID in his pocket, but it was good. He felt whole again.

And he knew he couldn't have done it without his loyal friends, Dave and Spencer. He glanced across the precinct at them waiting for him. They were window shopping a Games shop. Spencer was instructing Dave on the new Lara Croft game. Dave had that glazed look in his eyes. Aaron wanted to laugh.

He pushed his card into the ATM.

The ATM ate it.

"Dammit!" Aaron said under his breath. He took Jack's little hand in his and went into the bank.

All he needed was to get some money for the first few days at work and to pay the sitter. Why was everything so complicated?

As usual there was a queue. Jack went to sit at one of the customer's desks and began filling in deposit slips. Aaron watched him; head down, concentrating on writing little circles on the dotted lines; and he felt a tremendous surge of love.

Jack missed his Mummy, but Jess had stepped up to the plate and Jack was happy. Aaron was happy too. His relationship with Jess was developing slowly. He didn't want a whirlwind romance, not with Haley's sister. He had to be sure.

Although truth be told, he had been sure with Haley. It was Haley who hadn't been.

Jess had seen him at his most vulnerable, had listened to him when he was depressed and held him when he had cried. And still, she was interested, waiting in the sidelines for him to notice her. He didn't have to be anyone else with Jess, just himself, Aaron Hotchner. And yesterday, Jack had asked if Aunty Jess was his new Mummy. And last night Jess had said that she loved him.

At the moment he was happier than he could ever remember being. He felt fulfilled. His son was happy, he was going back to work the next day, he was falling in love again, and he had the best friends a man could wish for.

The woman in front of him finished her transaction and stepped away. Aaron was still smiling as he limped to the window. He was about to speak when he heard a crack above his head. He looked up and saw a shattered hole in the safety glass. He turned in time to see a masked man fire an automatic at the ceiling. Lights popped, people were screaming and diving for cover and a vinyl banner advertising the best way to keep your money safe floated slowly to the floor; the only movement for a split second.

Then a voice shouted, "On the floor!"

The bank customers instantly crouched down. Aaron looked for Jack. He wasn't at the desk any more.

"Jack! Where are you?" Aaron shouted, and he started to limp across the floor to where Jack had been sitting.

"You! In the suit! I said 'get down on the floor'."

Aaron thought about going for his gun. But the automatic was pointed straight at him. "I am going to find my son." he answered.

Aaron saw two other men by the door also armed. The front gunman walked around the whimpering customers, and repeated his order to Aaron, the automatic inches from his forehead. He knew that if he fired, they would have a hard job identifying him.

Aaron glanced over to the desk. To his relief, he saw Jack under the table.

"I want to get my son." Aaron repeated, a slight tremor in his voice. He wanted to draw them away from Jack. "I can't see him." he said and took step away from the Jack's hiding place.

The gunman turned his weapon around and hit Aaron on the cheek bone. Aaron felt the bone crack and he went down hard. Someone screamed again. As his vision dimmed he was eye to eye with his little boy, wide eyed and scared, hunkered down under the desk.

'Stay there!' He mouthed the words, praying that Jack would understand. He started to get up and the butt of the gun hit the back of his head, and he lost consciousness.

-0-0-0-

"What was that?" Reid stopped Lara Crofting mid sentence and spun round to face the street.

"Sounded like a gun shot." Dave said."I think it came from the bank. Where are Aaron and Jack?"

"They went to the ATM. They're not there now."

Spencer and Dave both drew their guns at the same time, and held up their ID's.

"Clear the area. FBI! Clear the area!"

Folks were pretty obedient when faced with Feds waving guns. The precinct was cleared quickly and efficiently.

Dave and Spencer crept over to the door of the bank, and using a periscope mirror, Dave looked inside.

He leaned back onto the wall of the bank next to the door. Reid stood beside him.

"I saw three UnSubs. Maybe more. Customers on the floor. Aaron is standing by the teller's window. Can't see Jack."

"What are we going to do?"

"Well we can't go crashing in there. I have to hope Aaron will gain control. Talking down UnSubs is what he's good at."

"Like he did Dowd." said Reid. "But Jack's in there. He will be Aaron's priority. He will work to protect his child."

"Yeah you're right." Dave got out his mobile. "No signal. There usually is in here. They must be using a jamming device."

There was a loud metallic clang as the security doors closed the precinct off.

"Was that security or the UnSubs?" Reid asked.

"The UnSubs." Dave said. "Security wouldn't close the doors unless the police were here."

"So it's down to us then." Reid said. "A two man SWAT."

"Looks that way." Dave said, pulling back the cocking mechanism on his gun. There was a scream from inside the bank. Rossi looked in again.

"Agent down." whispered Dave. "They're going to find out now that he's FBI."

"I didn't hear a shot." Reid said. "They must've hit him."

Rossi nodded. "We have to hope that Jack is hiding. If they find him, they'll use him against Hotch."

"Oh god." Reid wiped sweat from his forehead.

"They must have another way out if they've lowered the security doors." Dave looked round the deserted precinct.

"Reid, stay here and watch. I am going to see if I can get a signal anywhere."

Dave ran to the corner of the precinct, and slowly walked the perimeter, checking his mobile. He shook his head at Reid. No help from Garcia. They had to do this alone.

"They've essentially locked themselves in." Reid said when Dave got back. "They must have another way out."

"Roof or basement." Rossi said. "Roof would be easier, less work. Basement, more preparation, but more likely that they'll get away unseen."

"We'll have to profile them to see which they would choose."

"Ok, round to the side Reid. We need time to think."

The two men moved quietly to the side of the building and crouched in the shadows. They had very little, but they'd worked with less.


	2. Hurting Daddy

Chapter 2

Hurting Daddy

_**One night a father heard his son pray,' Dear God, make me the kind of man my Daddy is.' Later that night, the father prayed, 'Dear God, make me the kind of father my son wants me to be'. – ANON **_

Aaron moaned softly as a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him over onto his back. He felt someone remove his gun from his belt, and his ID from his jacket. He tried to reach up to the man going through his pockets, but his body was not yet recovered from the hits to the head, and his limbs refused to obey his brain.

His fingers twitched as he desperately tried to regain control of his body and fight back. He heard someone shout out that he was a Fed. He could hear the hostages crying, and orders being shouted out. He turned his head to see if he could see Jack, but he wasn't under the desk any more. He suddenly felt sick with fear. He rolled onto his side, and as feeling returned to his limbs, he tried to get onto his hands and knees.

Again he was hit with the gun, this time on his side just below his ribs. He groaned and fell sideways again onto his back. He lay there with his eyes closed, trying to get his breath back. Someone stood on his upturned hand.

"You! Fed. Lie still!"

Aaron opened his eyes and looked up at the man who nonchalantly rested the barrel of his gun against his forehead. Aaron closed his eyes again. His face hurt where he had been hit and his right eye wouldn't open properly. He took the opportunity to think.

As far as he knew, he still had the ankle gun. He could only remember someone taking the other. He would have to wait for the chance to get it. He thought his right side of his jaw was broken. Experimentally he tried to move it, and the sudden pain made him cry out. He brought a shaky right hand up to his face.

"I said lie still!" the man said. He kicked Aaron's hand away from his face. As Aaron's hand rested back on the floor, the man moved the gun away from Aaron's head and to his right hand. Aaron screamed as the man fired the gun. He felt flesh explode and bones splinter.

Aaron writhed on the floor in agony. Moaning in pain, not able to move with the man standing on his other hand. He wanted to roll onto his side and nurse his smashed hand d against his chest. He breathed fast and lightly, trying to overcome the pain. He tried to feel if his fingers were intact, still attached to his hand. He concentrated on moving them, the damage was too severe though, and all it did was give him more agony, shooting up his arm into his chest.

The man released his left hand.

"Get up!"

Aaron rolled to his right and got onto his knees, resting on his left hand. Tears of pain and frustration, and fear for his little boy washed down his bloody face. He looked across at the hostages. They were staring at him wide eyed and frightened, faces tear stained and pale.

They were his priority; them, and Jack.

Holding his smashed hand to his chest, he slowly climbed to his feet. He looked down at the floor. There was blood where his hand had been when it was shot, and pieces of pale flesh and chips of what looked like bone. There was blood where his head had been too. He hadn't realised that the back of his head was open again.

"Walk!"

"Let these hostages go." Aaron said. "You know who I am. Keep me and let these go."

The gun shoved him in the back towards the hostages. He took a couple of steps, and he was pushed again. This time he fell to his knees. He instinctively saved himself from falling with his hands, and screamed as his right hand took weight. He collapsed onto his face, breathing little moans of agony as he rolled onto his side. He heard one of the hostages gasp and he turned to face them. He saw the gun butt coming towards him, but had no time to move away. It hit him in the face across the bridge of his nose. He felt blood spray from his nose, and the bone and cartilage crush, and his air way was cut off. He opened his mouth to breathe and coughed blood onto the floor. He attempted again to open his eyes and try to see Jack. He couldn't open them. They were swollen shut, and his eye sockets filled with blood.

He heard the voice call two of the hostages over, and order them to get Aaron over to the wall with the others. He felt gentle hands under his arms as he was half carried half dragged the rest of the way. They sat him down gently and leaned him against the wall.

A woman's voice said, "Don't be alarmed, I am going to get this blood out of your eyes." He didn't move as she used a tissue to clean the blood off his eye lids. He could feel that she was shaking.

"Thank you." Aaron whispered softly.

"That was a brave thing you said back there." s he said. "Who are you?"

"FBI."

"Is that why they picked on you?"

Aaron nodded. "Did you see a little boy, three years old? He was with me when I came in." he whispered. "He was hiding under the table. I couldn't see him just now."

"I haven't seen him." she said.

"You! Fed! Get over here."

Aaron stood up with the help of the wall behind him. With his left hand he rubbed the last of the blood from his eyes and managed to open his left eye. He swayed as he walked across the room. He was given a bag of flexi cuffs.

"Cuff the hostages together in a line...MOVE"

Aaron stumbled forwards towards the hostages, and began cuffing them. He could only use one hand, and the people he was restraining helped him.

"I'm sorry." he said as he put the cuffs on the hostages. "Do exactly what they say. I don't think they will hurt you, as long as you do what they say."

The other two gunmen came out from round behind the counter, each carrying a filled holdall.

"Right you lot. Out the back, down into the vault!"

In single file, the cuffed together hostages followed one of the gunmen through the back. Aaron made to follow them.

"Not you!" The gun was swung round once more into Aaron's face, splitting his lip and sending him crashing backwards into the counter. He fell on his face and didn't move.

-0-0-0-

Daddy had taught Jacky well.

"_If there's anything that is frightening you, run away. Just get as far away as you can."_

Jacky remembered that. At home, they played 'run away from the bad guy', so Jacky knew what 'run away' meant. Daddy had said he didn't have to actually run. Walking was ok, as long as the bad guys didn't see him.

He watched from under the desk, and he saw the bad guy hit Daddy. It frightened him, and so he decided to run away.

There was a big card shaped like a lady by him. He thought he could stand behind it and the bad guys wouldn't be able to see him. It was good standing behind the card lady. If he moved it just a teeny bit, he would be by a door, which was open.

Jacky waited until the bad guys were doing something else. One was talking to Daddy, who was lying on the floor. The other bad guys went out to the back of the bank where no-one was allowed. Jacky wondered why the bad guys were allowed to go there, and then he thought it was because they were bad.

There was a big bang and he heard his Daddy cry. Jacky didn't like bad guys. They were hurting his Daddy.

Carefully, Jacky moved the big card lady to the door, and crawled into the room away from the bad guys.

He pushed the door nearly closed.

He remembered Daddy saying, '_Just get as far away as you can.'_

The room looked like Daddy's office; with all the books in that didn't have pictures in. (Jacky's books had pictures. They weren't in the office, they were in his bedroom.) It was different to Daddy's office though, because it had another door. As Jacky went to the other door he saw a box of sweets on the desk. He went to look at them, and thought he would like one. But there was no-one to ask. Daddy sometimes said if you took a sweet without asking, you were being a bad guy yourself.

Jacky thought of them hurting his Daddy. He would never want to be a bad guy and hurt someone. He left the sweets where they were, and went and looked through the door.

This was a passage like the one at the nursery. He wondered if there was a nursery here. If he went to the end and looked to see if there was a nursery, he would be even further away from the bad guys.

The room at the end wasn't a nursery though. It was a big room full of boxes. Above the boxes was a little window.

Now Jacky liked to climb up piles of boxes. Aunty Jess took him once to a place with big squashy boxes that he could climb on. He liked doing that, and he knew it was ok because Aunty Jess let him, and she was going to be his new Mummy.

Jacky was a skilled box climber, and soon he was at the top. He could look out of the window.

Crawling across the top of the boxes to the window, he stood and looked outside. His eyes widened with excitement when he saw Uncle Spence and Uncle Dave outside. They were holding guns, but Daddy said they were good guys.

Jacky knocked on the window. He didn't shout to them, because the man hurting Daddy might hear. So he knocked harder.

Uncle Spence heard him and looked up.

Jacky waved.

Uncle Spence would know what to do.


	3. Rescue 1

Chapter 3

Rescue 1

_**Eddie Izzard said, "And the National Rifle Association says that, "Guns don't kill people, people do," but I think the gun helps, you know? I think it helps. I just think just standing there going, "Bang!" That's not going to kill too many people, is it? **_

Dave turned quickly at the sound behind him. At first he didn't see anything, then when the sound came again, he saw a movement at a small window, set high up in the wall of the bank.

"Reid, Get down!" he hissed. Reid looked to where Dave was pointing. "I saw a movement at that window."

Both men crouched down and ran to either side of the window. Rossi used the periscope to look through the window.

"It's Jack!" he said. He looked around for something to stand on. The window was about eight feet off the ground. There was nothing.

"It's a sealed pane, and it will be alarmed." Reid said. He picked up a piece of metal angle iron off the ground. "This will break it."

"We won't have to worry about the alarm. The UnSubs will have neutralised it."

"We've got to get him out." Reid said. He looked up at the window, and then at Rossi. "I'll stand on your back."

Dave was just coming to the same conclusion. He bent forwards and braced his arms on his knees. Reid clumsily climbed on his back, and leaning on the wall, pulled himself up. His head and shoulders were level with the window. After wobbling for a bit, he held onto the window sill and looked in. Jack was watching him and smiling excitedly. He knew Uncle Spence would rescue him.

"Jacky, can you hear me?"

The little boy nodded.

"Ok, Jacky, I want you to stand next to the window, and face the other way. Put your hands over your face."

"Like this?"

"That's it. Good boy. Now stand by the side of the window."

Reid heard a grunting sound below him.

"Are you ok, Dave?"

"Uuuhh...hurry up!" Dave replied.

Reid checked that Jack was standing in a safe place, and he broke the glass in the corner with the angle. He dropped it on the floor, and pulled out the glass from the frame.

"Ok, Jacky, Come to me now, and mind the glass on the floor."

Jack re-appeared at the window. Spencer reached in and pulled him through the window. Jack clung onto Spencer's neck, and put his head on his shoulder.

"Got him, Dave. Can you get lower now?"

With a painful grunt, Dave bent his knees, and Reid jumped off his back, his arms around Jack. Rossi leaned on the wall flexing his arms and then rubbing his back. But he was smiling.

"You are a brave boy, Jacky." he said.

"Bad man hurting Daddy." Jack said to Dave, still clinging onto Reid.

"I know, kid. We are going to save him too."

Jack smiled and relaxed with the trust of a child.

Reid ran with him over to the games shop, and quickly set up a 'Wheels on The Bus' game for him.

Reid held Jack in front of him so that he could speak to him with eye contact. "Now, I want you to stay here and play with this, while we save Daddy." he said. "Do you understand?"

Jacky nodded. "Play wheels On the Bus go round and round, and stay in here. Uncle Spence and Uncle Dave get Daddy."

"Good lad. We'll be back soon."

Reid ran back to Dave.

"Ok, Jack's safe." he said. "So you think they're going to use a tunnel to escape."

"The rest of the operation is highly organised." Dave said. They've been planning this for a long time, and know about the workings in the bank."

"They knew how to neutralise the alarm system, and how to close the security shutters." Reid said."They could have had inside help."

"Possibly. There are a lot of new unoccupied premises around for them to use. No-one would have been suspicious of people checking them out."

"And a helicopter can be traced."

"So it's more likely that they would have dug a tunnel."

"There was a step ladder in the games shop. I'll get it and we can get in through the window."

Reid ran across to the games shop. Jacky was engrossed in his game. He had to take the bus round the track and collect bunnies. Reid thought he was doing well. After all he was only three. He remembered Dave saying he was a smart kid, and he was right.

He picked up the ladder, and without disturbing Jack's game, hurried back to Rossi.

-0-0-0-

Aaron's mind was fuzzy as he regained consciousness. His breathing was rough since they had smashed the bridge of his nose, and he couldn't open his eyes, but he didn't care, as long as the hostages were unharmed, and they hadn't found Jacky.

He was lying prone on the carpet by the Teller's window. The floor around his head was soaked in his blood, and wounds on his face were still bleeding. He could feel the warmth of his blood running through his hair and round the back of his ears.

His right hand didn't hurt. He had no feeling there at all. He tried to shift his position slightly to see if he was hurt anywhere else, and a shot of pain radiated from where he had been hit in the ribs. One was broken, he thought. And where his hip hit the counter, there was something wrong there too

One of the gunmen saw him move.

"Get up." and a poke in the back with the gun.

With concentration and a lot of pain, Aaron pushed himself onto his knees. He clasped his right hand against his chest and held it still with left, at the same time holding it against the broken rib. He started to get onto his feet, when a hand in his hair pulled him up.

"Not fast enough!"

He gasped as he tried to steady himself on his feet. Breathing erratically through his mouth, blood ran past his broken lips from his crushed nose, and dribbled down his throat. He coughed and spat the blood clotting in his mouth.

He swayed and tried to open his eyes, but he was as good as blind. Someone turned him around and pushed him face first into the wall. Two hands held him as his arms were pulled behind him.

Roughly his wrists were cuffed and he tried not to react when they pulled at his injured hand. He pressed his forehead against the wall and tried not to faint.

The hands pulled him off the wall and shoved him in front of them.

"I can't see." he said."I don't know where I am walking."

"You don't need to." a voice said. "Just walk." A shove in the back, and Aaron stumbled forwards. He tried to figure out where they were taking him – round the back of the bank, it seemed. They must have an escape route planned.

"If you take me with you, you will be making things so bad for yourselves." Aaron said.

"Shut up and walk!"

"So far, it's only armed robbery. If you take me, it's kidnapping, and if I die, it's murder."

"I said, SHUT UP!"

The gun but hit again the bridge of his nose again, and blood gushed from the smashed flesh. Aaron folded forwards and fell helpless on the floor. Blood was filling his throat, and he couldn't breathe. He coughed and gagged and fought for breath. On his knees, he leaned forwards and coughed gouts of blood onto the floor, desperately trying to clear his airway before he drowned in his blood. He could feel it dripping from his chin and lips. His eyes were watering as his lungs screamed for oxygen. Then at last he was able to take in bubbly bloody air, he rested his forehead on the floor with relief.

That was when he heard gunfire. He felt a bullet rush past his ear, and he rolled onto his side. Still trying to open his eyes to see what was happening, he managed to struggle to the wall as more gunfire split the air. He heard someone behind him scream, and a thud as a body hit the floor. He pressed himself into the angle between the wall and the floor, trying to work out which way the shots were coming from. He heard a yelp and a crash in the other direction, and more shots. Another body hit the floor, and the gunfire stopped.

Aaron laid perfectly still, breathing heavily through a throat filled with blood. He coughed again, keeping his airways clear, waiting for something to happen.

Hands gripped the front of his blood drenched shirt and started to drag him away from the wall.


	4. Through the Window

**A/N - This chapter is dedicated to PanicButton, my lovely sister with a brain cell undergoing mitosis – clever girl!!**

Chapter 4

Through the Window

It was quite a squeeze getting through the window. When Dave was standing on the boxes in the room, he held out his hand to pull Reid in after him.

"These boxes may have been fine for a three year old," Rossi whispered, "but if we don't get down quickly, I think they will collapse!"

The two agents slid down onto the floor as the boxes gradually crushed under their weight. Silently they made their way down a corridor. There were two doors off the end.

They checked out the office first. Through the other door, they watched helplessly as Aaron was dragged to his feet by the hair and cuffed.

"They've beaten him, and it looks like his hand been damaged." whispered Dave. "We can't go in now. They'll kill him."

"We need to get in front of them." Reid said. "Maybe the other door?"

Dave nodded, and silently they went back to the corridor and through the other door. Reid was right. The door opened into a short passage with a small office on either side. The end opened out into a storage alcove between the foyer and the vault. They could hear Aaron try to reason with his captors as they moved towards them.

Aaron came into view. He was badly limping; his face was contorted in pain. They realised that he couldn't see, as he knocked into things as he walked unsteadily forwards. The front of his clothes was blood soaked, and his face was pouring blood from his nose and between his eyes. He was saying something, but they couldn't hear what. Suddenly one of the men smashed the butt of his gun across Aaron's face, and they heard Aaron gasp in pain, and fall forward onto his knees, coughing and choking and vomiting blood.

For a second, Aaron was not in the line of fire.

"Now!" signalled Dave.

"FBI! Freeze!"

He ducked behind a desk as the UnSubs opened fire.

Dave fired at one of the UnSubs who fell dead with a neat hole in his forehead. Reid saw Aaron drag himself out of the way, as the UnSubs fired back. Rossi ducked behind the desk, Spencer shot from behind a stack of copying paper. A bullet whizzed past his head, and he fired again. One of the UnSubs fired just as Reid took aim. The bullet embedded in his shoulder joint, and his grip on his gun loosened. He fell backwards into a rack containing brochures, pulling it down on top of him with a crash. Papers and pieces of metal clattered around him.

He laid very still, blood pumping out of the wound. He was breathing heavily.

"Reid!" Dave yelled. "Reid!"

Reid concentrated. He moved his left hand onto the pumping artery.

"Gonna...bleed out..." he gasped, trying to staunch the flow. "Artery..."

Rossi made a dash through the open space between their two hiding places, gun firing as he ran.

In the hail of bullets, one hit Dave in the side. He fell without a sound and didn't move.

Suddenly it was very quiet. Reid was sure that the sound of his blood being pumped out of his shoulder onto the floor could be heard. In his own ears, the thud of his heart and the spurting of the rich red blood followed a loud rhythm. He pressed down with his hand, trying to push his fingers into the hole. The thick scarlet liquid ran around his fingers.

He looked over to Dave. He was lying prone, his arms above his head. He was not holding his gun. There was a growing pool of blood at his side. His head was on one side; Reid could see that his eyes were closed.

_So much for the rescue mission, Aaron. It's up to you now..._

Reid heard the sound of something being dragged, then a voice.

"So is that the best you Feds can come up with?" and the sound of laughter.

"Please..." Aaron's voice. Broken by coughing.

"Shut up unless you want another whack on the face."

"The bastards have killed Tone!" Another voice.

"This one will pay for that mistake!" the first man said, a voice filled with malice.

He pushed Aaron who stumbled forward through the door into the vault room.

-0-0-0-

Spencer would have liked to lie there and slowly fall asleep. The blood loss was confusing his thoughts. He forced himself to move.

He let go of his shoulder for a second and pushed the shelving and papers off him. Pressing on the wound again, he crawled to Dave.

He still hadn't moved. The shot had hit below his bottom rib at waist level on his right side.

"Dave!" Reid felt for a pulse in Dave's neck, but his hand was shaking and losing feeling. He couldn't use his left hand; if he let go of the wound again, he knew he would die.

As carefully as he could, he rolled Dave onto his back. There was a large exit wound just above his navel.

_Oh god no!_

Spencer felt his chest. There was a weak rise and fall. He was alive at least.

"Dave, if you can hear me, please respond to me."

Rossi made a valiant attempt to open his eyes, but he couldn't. He groaned softly and lifted his hand to Spencer.

"Won't ...make it ...help...Aaron..." he gasped faintly.

"You're going to make it!" Reid said, tears in his eyes. He pulled off his blood soaked jacket and pressed it into the gaping hole in Dave's abdomen. "Just stay with me, Dave."

"Help...Ho...tch...ahhh..."

It was one of the few times in Reid's life that he really had no idea what to do. He attempted to straighten his thoughts.

Dave was likely going to die if he stayed or not.

Aaron still had a chance.

He looked down at Dave. He had got to know him well during the time of Aaron's recent recovery. They had grown close. He couldn't leave him. But he had to.

Gently, Spencer touched Rossi's face. Dave managed to open his eyes a little.

"I'll get Aaron, and come back for you."

Dave inclined his head in approval, and closed his eyes again.

Spencer stood up, using the stack of paper as leverage. He had to let go of his shoulder to do it, and arterial spray shot across the room again, over Dave's body. He looked around for something to tie around his shoulder. There was an overall hanging on a hook by the door. He leaned on the desk Dave had been crouching behind and pulled it down towards him. It was easy to rip, standing on a sleeve, and holding it in his teeth, he tore it up.

He was light headed now. He sat on the floor and glanced around trying to calculate how much blood he had lost. He knew it always looked more than it was, but he estimated about three pints.

"No wonder I feel dizzy..." he mumbled to himself, as he pushed a piece of the overall into the wound to staunch the blood flow. He tied a piece of it around his shoulder. It wasn't easy using one hand, but what was lost on neatness was made up for in efficiency. With a final glance over to Dave, Spencer made his way to the door that the remaining two UnSubs had gone through with Aaron.

Reid's head was spinning. He leaned against the wall in the dark corridor and fought to get his breath back. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his good hand. His right hand hung uselessly at his side.

_Come on, Spence. Move or you'll lose both of them. The two men who mean more than anything else. Move it or they both die..._

He could see Aaron's blood in drops across the floor. At one point there was a pool as if he had fallen and laid there for a while. Spencer felt his stomach turn with fear. There was blood on the wall too. It looked like the imprint of Aaron's face where he had leaned on the wall.

Reid heaved and doubled up. He vomited onto the floor, and a blinding headache shot through his temples.

Low blood pressure, he thought. He didn't have long.

He pulled himself along the wall, wondering what use he would be even if he did catch up with them. The door at the end led into the vault room.

Reid grasped hold of the door frame, and he felt Aaron's blood. He felt his stomach churn again. He closed his eyes and forced the feeling away.

There was a hole in the wall by the vault. Spencer staggered to the hole. There was a lot of blood here too. Had Aaron fallen again?

As he stepped closer, he saw something that made his heart jump.

He turned and attempted to run but it felt as if he was in a dream and he moved in slow motion. He felt the wave of pressure before he heard the explosion and he tried to make it back through the door as the packs of C4 sealed the tunnel.

-0-0-0-

_**Emily Dickinson wrote, "Because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me. The Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality."**_


	5. Hopelessness and Fear

Chapter 5

Hopelessness and Fear

"_**To be thoroughly conversant with a man's heart is to take our final lesson in the iron-clasped volume of despair." - Edgar Allan Poe**_

Without moving, Spencer started to take an inventory of himself. The blast had lifted him off his feet and smashed him into the wall. He hadn't got to the door in time. His chest hurt, and he thought he could have a couple of broken ribs. The skin had scraped off the side of his face, but all in all, he had come off lightly. Wiping the sweaty dust from his eyes, slowly and carefully, he pushed off the debris that had landed on him, and sat up. He checked his shoulder. Some blood had soaked through the cloth, but it wasn't bleeding now. His hearing was affected, so that it sounded as if he was under water, but he thought that was temporary.

Shakily he got to his feet and went to check the tunnel entrance. It was totally blocked. These UnSubs certainly knew what they were doing.

His left hand pressing against the wound in his shoulder, he painfully limped back to Rossi.

Dave's breathing was laboured and erratic. Spencer could hear it before he even got to him. He sat by his side, and took his hand.

"Can't follow, Dave. They've blown up the tunnel."

Dave moved his fingers against Reid's hand. Reid felt dizzy and sick. He looked at Rossi dying next to him, and his eyes clouded over, and he passed out.

-0-0-0-

"Ok, it's safe for you to go in now."

The SWAT team stepped through the hole in the security screen, bent forwards, weapons ready. As they passed through the precinct, each shop was checked and cleared. When they entered the games shop, they found a little boy sitting by a console. He had been crying. When he saw the man in full protective gear come towards him, he scooted backwards on his behind, his eyes big and frightened.

"Hello sonny. What's your name?"

Jacky said nothing, just like Daddy had told him.

"I think you had better come with me."

"Uncle Spence said I was to wait here." Jack said.

"Ok, and where is Uncle Spence now?"

"He gone to save Daddy from the bad guys."

"Oh, I see." The cop pointed to the bank opposite."And is your Daddy over there?"

"Yes. Bad guys hurting Daddy."

Jacky started to cry. Uncle Spence hadn't come back, nor had Uncle Dave, and Daddy wasn't saved yet. He balled his fists and rubbed them in his eyes.

"Want Aunty Jess!" he sobbed.

The cop called through his radio for a female cop to come in to handle the child. He clearly wasn't going to go with him, and forcing him could be damaging. When she arrived, she went and sat by him at the back of the shop. The SWAT cop left to join his team.

"All premises are clear."

OK, we storm the bank now."

It didn't take long for them to ascertain that the robbery was long over. There was a lot of blood in gravitational droplets, and in pools. It was as they were searching for the way that the UnSubs had escaped that they found Dave and Spencer.

The man lying on his back with a dreadful wound to the abdomen was breathing, but now his breaths were intermittent and shallow. The younger man sitting beside him was leaning forwards, the right side of his body drenched in blood, and his face scraped and bleeding. The cop called for medics.

When they arrived, they intubated Dave and took him straight out to the ambulance. There was a high chance he would die in the ambulance before they even got him to hospital. The exit wound had caused a lot of damage, and they called ahead to ensure that an OR would be ready when they got there

As they lifted Spencer onto the gurney, he caught hold of the sleeve of one of the 'medics.

"Jacky...games ..." He started to roll his eyes. He needed to tell them about Jacky.

"It's ok, we have him. He was waiting for Uncle Spence. Is that you?"

Spencer nodded, satisfied that Jacky was safe.

"Dave..." he whispered.

"He's in the other ambulance. I'm afraid I don't know."

Spencer felt tears well up in his eyes as he slipped once more into unconsciousness.

-0-0-0-

Aaron stumbled on in front of his captors. He still couldn't see, both eyes swollen and stuck with blood. When he fell for the fourth time, the front man lost it. He started beating Aaron with his gun and screaming at him.

"I should just kill you now and leave you to rot down here!" he yelled, bringing the heavy weapon down hard on Aaron's back. Aaron was weak now, and although he tried, he couldn't move away from the onslaught. Raising the gun high over his head, the frontman swung it down across Aaron's shoulders.

"You bastards killed Tony!" he screamed at Aaron

Aaron heard a crunch as his right shoulder dislocated, and he let out a cry of pain. The third time, he hit him across the small of his back, catching his fingers. Aaron screamed as his shot hand caught under the gun as it cracked against his spine, and the sound of cracking as bones in his good hand were crushed. Aaron whimpered and twisted on the ground.

"Get up, Fed. Get up now or I'll blow your goddamned head off!"

The second UnSub caught hold of his leader's arm.

"Hey, man if you kill him here, we won't have any leverage. We might need him later!"

The frontman shook him off, the rage boiling up inside him. But he knew that he was right. He threw his gun down in anger, and pulled Aaron to his feet hanging onto his right arm.

Aaron thought he was going to faint from the pain. When he let go of his arm, Aaron's knees buckled and he fell against the wall. Each breath was a whimper of agony as he tried to walk. He felt someone loop a rope around his neck and jerk him forwards. He took a step, still leaning on the wall. If he fell again, if they carried on walking, he would be throttled. He staggered on in the darkness, all his concentration on keeping upright and not falling. When the tunnel bent at ninety degrees, he had no chance, and as the wall he was leaning on disappeared, he fell onto his side.

His dislocated shoulder took the full force of the fall. If the rope hadn't been tightening around his throat, he would have screamed. As it was he made a gurgling sound as his throat became restricted. He kicked in a panic against the uneven ground in an attempt to gain purchase, and try to stand again. He thought the pain was going to make him sick, and he felt the gorge rising in his throat. He coughed and choked but the UnSubs didn't stop. He felt the rope tighten more around his neck as they dragged him on. He struggled to get up, but they were going too fast. The rope tautened and pulled against his jaw, and he felt them drag him a few feet before the agony overtook him and he passed out.

-0-0-0-

Spencer woke up in the ambulance. His first thought was for Aaron. He needed to know if they had found him yet.

"Aaron..."

The medic was at his side instantly. "You must lay still and rest." she said.

Spencer pushed her hand out of the way and he attempted to sit up. "Where are we going? Take me back! Aaron is in danger. I have to..."

"It's ok; there are lots of police there. You have to rest."

"I can't rest! Aaron needs me!" Spencer struggled against the 'medic, but she hadn't lost almost a third of her blood volume, and she easily subdued him.

"We need to bring your blood volume up, and repair that artery. Now lie down or we will have to restrain you."

He looked up at her, his eyes wide and pleading. "I have to...have to ...What are you doing?"

"It's a mild sedative, Doctor Reid. It will help to calm you."

"No! No please..."

His eyes slowly rolled upwards and he relaxed as the sedative took effect.


	6. Lead

Chapter 6

Lead

"_**Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." - from 'It's a Wonderful Life'. **_

"What do you mean, not our case?"Morgan raged. "How can it not be our case? They've put two of us in hospital, one fighting for his life, and one missing, possibly kidnapped! Of course it's our case!"

The sergeant was in no mood for this belligerent FBI know it all. He'd had enough of wrestling cases from the Feds. That was the problem with being a cop in Quantico. Not for the first time he considered putting in for a transfer. This guy looked as if he wouldn't stop until he had won.

"How about you work with us then. We're all supposedly on the same side in this."

Morgan stopped pacing. "We will carry on our own investigation, and share results." he said with finality. Without waiting for confirmation, he turned and left the room.

He heard, "And mind you do share!" from the sergeant as the door shut behind him.

Share?

He went straight to Garcia's bunker to see if she had got anything from the dead UnSub's prints.

"Twenty eight year old Antony Marino. Small time only up 'til now. Shared a cell with Abe Nixon on his only stretch inside." Garcia leaned back in her seat and looked over her shoulder at Morgan. "Got an address for Nixon!" she said. "He's been out six months."

Morgan grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, my Princess of all Knowledge!" he left the bunker at a run and called Emily as he went.

He heard Garcia shout to him, "He lives with his Mum!"

-0-0-0-

Emily met Morgan in the car park in ten minutes. Morgan paced up and down waiting for her, desperate to be on his way. He had read through Nixon's sheet while he waited, and it had said that he had a short temper and was wont to violent flare ups for very little provocation. Morgan was keenly aware that Hotch was in a very dangerous position.

He saw Emily's car coming down the ramp, he got in the SUV and started the engine. Emily parked next to him and quickly got in beside him.

"Ok, Morgan, what have we got?"

"An address on a possible. A known associate of our dead UnSub from the bank, who got out six months ago." He passed Emily the paper with the information on.

Emily didn't say anything. She had been on the way back from the hospital when Morgan had called her. She was still in shock. Dave was still on the critical list, and could go either way. He hadn't regained consciousness after surgery. Reid had lost a lot of blood, and had several broken ribs and a cracked sternum and was in HDU. And whoever had done this now had Hotch. The information she read off the sheet mentioned 'psychotic' and 'extreme violent behaviour'. Her hand gripped the paper.

Morgan glanced at her. "We're going to get this son of a bitch. Make no mistake."

"Oh yes." she said. "We will."

They pulled up outside a dilapidated brownstone on the edge of town. It was a rough neighbourhood, and Morgan felt sorry for an old woman living here alone, or as she was now, living with a violent psychotic son. The lift was out of order, but the apartment was only on the first floor. The landing was rubbish strewn and filthy, but when Mrs Nixon opened the door, they were pleasantly surprised.

The little apartment was spotless and smelt of the flowers that stood in a tall vase in the hall. When Morgan introduced himself and Emily, she scowled hatefully.

"I wondered when you would start harassing my boy again." she spat."Unjustly put away, and the minute he's out, you're on his back again!"

"Mrs Nixon, we just want to talk to him about a friend of his, Antony Marino." Morgan said. "Is Abe in?"

"Only his friends call him Abe!" she said. "And you ain't no friend of my boy. And no, he ain't in. I ain't seen him for four days."

"Can you tell us where he is, Mrs Nixon? It's very important." said Emily as sweetly as she could manage. "You see, Mr Marino has met with an accident, and Mr Nixon needs to be informed."

The old lady put her hand to her mouth. "Oh no! Is the poor boy all right? I mean, he's not...is he?"

"If you could just tell us where Mr Nixon is, ma'am." Morgan said politely, "And we'll be on our way."

"I don't know!" she said, quickly returning to type. "I don't monitor him. He's a grown man."

"Does he have any close friends he could be with?" Emily said.

"Wait here." the old lady said and shut the door.

After standing on the doorstep for five minutes, the two agents were getting restless.

"She is coming back, isn't she?" Emily said.

"Well, she did say..."

The door opened. She showed Emily a photograph. "These are his friends. This was taken at his coming home party six months ago."

Emily tried to take the photograph from her.

"Hey! You ain't havin' it!" she said, snatching it back.

"Mrs Nixon, you can trust us with it. It will be returned to you as soon as we have taken a copy." Emily smiled. "Can you tell us who these people in the picture are?"

"Most of them." she answered, and one by one she identified the sixteen men on the photograph. Antony Marino was there, and Morgan wrote down the names of the others. There was one face that she couldn't identify. Maybe Garcia could with her new facial recognition software.

They thanked Mrs Nixon, and made their way back down to the SUV.

Morgan called Garcia.

"I'm sending you a list of thirteen associates of Nixon, Sugar-Babe. Could you get addresses on them?"

"If they have addresses, I'll find them. No-one can hide from the The Great Address Finder. Au revoir."

Morgan sent the names while Emily drove back to the BAU.

-0-0-0-

"Don't kill him. We can use him as a test subject."

He looked back at the man lying in the mouth of the tunnel. "Could be too late." he said. He dropped the rope and went to check on the Fed.

He wasn't dead. Yet.

Aaron's mouth was open, gasping for air; a horrible rattling sound came from his throat as he fought to draw breath. His skin was pale and his lips were blue. The rope was tight around his neck, bruising already showing, especially on his jaw where the rope had dragged him along.

Frontman noticed that he was twitching as his limbs weakened, becoming hypoxic. Irritated, he loosened the rope. His fingers shook as he resisted the impulse to strangle him.

Aaron bent his neck back and gulped air in desperation. He had been seconds from death, and his back arched in a desperate attempt to draw in the air he needed. The wheezing choking breaths gradually calmed down as he recovered. As he breathed out he made whimpering sounds, little cries as the pain reasserted itself.

Aaron did not expect to live much longer. This man seemed to delight in hurting him for no other reason than he enjoyed hurting.

He thought back to the brief gun battle. He knew one of the UnSubs had died, but he didn't know who the shooters were. Whoever they were, he thought they were dead.

_Dave and Spence?...please, not them. Jacky would need them when they had killed him. _

A hand in his hair pulled him up. He felt dizzy, and as soon as the hand released him, his knees gave way and he was kneeling down again, head forward, weak and resigned.

The hand took hold of him again, this time, his right elbow. He screamed as his shoulder bent at an impossible angle, and made a horrible crunching sound as ligaments tore and his arm was pulled out of the socket. He stumbled forwards, desperate to keep up with whoever was pulling him along.

The vehicle was a small van. The back doors were opened, and Aaron heard something get thrown in. Then he was pushed forwards into the space on the floor between what he thought were two rows of seats along the sides of the van. He was pushed in, knees bent. Someone put flexicuffs on his ankles, and at the same time disarmed him of his second gun.

"Don't know how you hoped to use this with no fingers!" smirked the second man.

Aaron drew his knees up as close to his chest as he could. He hurt inside, and he knew he had started to bleed again. There was a lot of blood, and he hoped that they wouldn't notice some more. This UnSub was a psychopath, unpredictable and cruel. He feared what he would do to him if they discovered what was happening to him now. He groaned in agony as wave after wave of excruciating pain radiated out from within him.

In anguish and distress, he pressed himself into a corner and waited to bleed out.


	7. Reasons

**WARNING – NONCON AH/OMC**

Chapter 7

Reasons

_**Ricinus communis – Castor Bean. The beans are poisonous, and even two beans can prove fatal. Ricin, a highly toxic poison favoured by some assassins, is derived from the beans.**_

It was along drive. Aaron tried not to move about in the back of the van, but the UnSubs were not concerned with his comfort, only to get back to their lodging, so that they could count the money and buy the Ricin.

The little van drove into an old abandoned factory, and Nixon got out and pulled down the door, while Markus pulled the hold alls out of the back of the van.

He left Aaron where he was.

Markus tipped the first bag out onto a table and started counting. He felt no inclination to keep the money. This was for the cause. The loss of Tony was sad, but he died reaching for a higher goal, and would be blessed for his sacrifice.

Nixon went to get their test subject. He was surprised when he shone his torch into the back of the van that there was so much blood. He was lying there in a clotted mess, either dead or unconscious. He got hold of the flexicuffs around his ankles and cut them off, and pulled Aaron out of the van onto the floor.

He hit the floor on his right side, and the sudden shot of pain woke Aaron out of the safety of unconsciousness, and pulled him back into the world of pain and terror. He turned onto his back and faced his attacker. He could still not open his eyes.

"Who are you? What do you want me for?" Aaron said softly.

"We need a test subject, and you're it." Nixon said. "Now stand."

Aaron struggled to his feet. He was losing blood rapidly, and was feeling light headed and sick. He leaned against the van.

"Testing what?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"Ricin. Now move."

"Why do you need to test it?" Aaron asked. Ricin was an old poison used in assassinations. Why did it need to be tested?

"I said move!" Nixon pushed Aaron sideways. He fought to remain upright, but he was weak and sick and he collapsed onto his knees. He cried out helplessly as hands in his hair pulled him across the floor to a wall, where he was cuffed to a pipe running down from the ceiling. Hands behind his back, leaning against the wall, he slumped forwards and rested his head on his knees. He had tears in his eyes, washing the blood from his eyelashes. A hand gripped his jaw and lifted his head. Aaron forced his eyes open to look at his attacker.

"Get used to this. You are going to be sitting here until you die."

Aaron blinked as his eyes got used to the light, and he stared at Nixon.

"They will find you. Killing me will not matter in the end, because you will be tracked down and punished." he said, his dark eyes staring in defiance.

Nixon pressed his fingers into Aaron's jaw as hard as he could, his nails cutting crescents in Aaron's pale skin. He smacked his head back against the wall and walked away.

Aaron felt the crack as his head impacted with the concrete wall, and new tears flooded his battered bleeding face. He rested his head on his knees again and drifted into a black velvet void where gentle hands caressed his beaten body.

-0-0-0-

Morgan and Emily sat in the bunker with Garcia. So far they had nine addresses, and had identified the one associate that Mrs Nixon didn't know. They decided to follow these up nine while Garcia worked on the final five.

"The other five might have aliases, especially if they are cons." said Emily.

"I'll run them through the facial recognition program." Garcia said. "We might get lucky again."

Emily and Morgan sat in the car putting the addresses in some kind of order. None were any more likely than the others so they decided to take them according to distance. The closest was a con named Julio Canello. Emily started the car and drove up the ramp into the traffic.

-0-0-0-

They had counted the money, and it would just cover the initial payment. Nixon made a phone call and arranged the pick up. He was getting excited now. It was really happening. And while he was concerned about accuracy with the condition of their test subject, it meant that they wouldn't have to risk another kidnapping.

"I'll go and make the pick up." said Nixon. "Wait here. I'll be about an hour."

Aaron heard a door open and close again. Now there was only one UnSub. The odds would not get any better.

"Please can I have some water?" Aaron croaked. The blood loss had dehydrated him. Water would help him think.

Markus picked up a bottle of water and walked over to Aaron. As he approached, he noticed the pool of blood. Aaron looked up at him, his head resting on the wall behind him.

"Thank you." he whispered.

"Why are you bleeding?" Markus asked.

"Because you have beaten me." Aaron said. He didn't know about this UnSub yet, but he hoped he was stupid enough not to realise what was happening to him.

Markus suddenly caught hold of Aaron's legs and pulled them straight so that Aaron was lying down. He hit the floor with a smack, and for a moment, he was too shocked to move. Markus pulled him over onto his front. Aaron's hands were still cuffed to the pipe, and his arms were yanked backwards. Aaron was breathing heavily, fighting the pain and fearing what was going to happen.

"My god! You're a freak!" yelped Markus excitedly.

"No!" Aaron said. Speech was becoming difficult; his mouth was dry and sticky. But he still had the strength and dignity to fight this. He felt hands slip around his waist and fumble with his belt. He couldn't turn over because even the slightest movement of his right shoulder made him sick. He tried to draw his knees up so that he could turn around and face the UnSub. He was pushed back down again, and his face was pressed into the floor, his broken nose scrunching onto the concrete. Aaron cried in pain and tears came into his eyes again. He fought against the weight on his back as the UnSub straddled him, trying now to undo his zip. A hand slid out from under him, and grasped the back of his hair, pulling his head back until he choked.

"Lie still!" he hissed. Aaron couldn't speak. He made gasping sounds in his throat as his neck cracked. The UnSub Threw his head back down, smashing his face again on the ground. Aaron groaned weakly, realising that he didn't have the strength to fight this man.

He actually considered doing as he was told; just lie down and take it. But although his strength was gone, he still had his dignity. He didn't want to be destroyed like he almost was last time. He couldn't let all the love that Dave and Spencer had shown to him be for nothing. If only to serve their memory, he was going to fight, if not to stop this man, at least to make things difficult.

Even if he killed Aaron. He was not going to give up until he was dead.

The weight was lifted off his back, and immediately, Aaron tried to crawl away. He couldn't go far, but if he could get nearer the wall, he could turn onto his back.

Hands at his waist gripped his clothes and pulled at his blood soaked trousers. He squirmed and kicked, managing at one point to kick the UnSub in the jaw. A fist to his own jaw temporarily stunned him, and he was helpless as his trousers were removed and thrown to one side. Exposed and powerless, he felt the weight across his thighs. Hands clawed at his underclothes and ripped them away.

The only way he could move was to roll onto his right side. He screamed at the self induced agony as he forced himself onto his right side, trying to dislodge his attacker. Slipping in his own deep red blood, he tried to get against the wall.

The man on top of him gripped tighter with his knees. He drew back his fist and punched Aaron hard on the cheek bone, leaving him dazed and defenceless. He pushed Aaron back onto his front, and dug his fingers into his waist, holding him still, as he slid in the blood up towards his hips.


	8. Distress

**WARNING NONCON AH/OMC**

Chapter 8  
Distress

"_**This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you." - Don McLean**_

Aaron's head was still spinning from the punch to the face when the pain started. He squirmed and struggled in the hands of the rapist, but his strength was all but gone. He tried not to scream or cry out, but as Markus forced himself into him, using Aaron's own blood as lubricant, the searing pain cut into him as more damage was done, Aaron began to sob and beg him to stop. Markus held now onto Aaron's shoulders, pressing him downwards, then tighter against his neck, choking the life out of him, cutting off the screams and cries, and Aaron's pleas for him to stop quietened to soft whimpers and moans. Markus lifted Aaron up, hands around his neck, forcing himself deeper and harder. Aaron's eyes rolled in their sockets, and he fainted. Markus didn't seem to notice that his victim had fallen lifeless beneath him, and with one hand holding his hair and the other squeezing the front of his neck, he kept on with the rape.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Suddenly Markus felt a kick in the side of his head. He fell onto the floor, dropping Aaron, who crashed down on the concrete.

Markus looked up at Nixon. "I erm...wasn't expecting you back yet."

"So I see you bloody pervert! He'll be in no condition as a test subject if you don't leave him alone! How stupid are you?" Nixon smiled. "Anyway, I've got the Ricin. He's already made the dilutions."

Markus got up and dressed himself. He followed Nixon to the table, where he laid out the vials of Ricin.

"We'll start with the most dilute. The result should be almost instantaneous, at least within a minute of inoculation." He glanced across at Aaron. "We'll have to wait until tomorrow now though. He's in too much of a state now to get reliable results." He scowled ay Markus. "You are an idiot, Mark."

"Yeah. Sorry Nix. I'll go and sort him out."

"Just get the blood cleaned up, and get some clothes on him. There's some sweat pants in my case. They should fit. I don't want him dying of exposure before we can use him."

Markus went back over to Aaron, who was lying smeared in blood and semi naked on the floor. He hadn't moved since he had been dropped and for a moment Markus worriedly thought he had killed him. Then he saw Aaron's chest move. Yes he was still breathing.

There was a tap in what once were the factory toilets. Most of the fittings were smashed or stolen, but the mains pipe was still intact, and Markus fitted a length of hose to it and turned it on.

The pressure was quite high, so when Markus turned the hose onto the ground around Aaron the blood was quickly washed along the wall into a drain at the end. He glanced at Nixon, and saw that he was cataloguing the vials of Ricin, ready for the trials. He wasn't watching him.

Markus turned the hose onto Aaron, effectively washing the blood from his skin. He seemed to be covered with blood from his waist to half way down his legs. He woke him up with a frightened cry, as the stream of cold water hit him, and he tried to curl himself up away from this new assault. Seeing his victim whimpering and trying futilely to escape excited him again.

_Damn you Nixon. Damn you!_

He went back and replaced the hose, and then went to get the sweat pants out of Nix's case.

Cases, passports, Brazilian money, all ready for the escape, once they had completed the tests. Then the assassination. And then...

...a lifetime of freedom and luxury.

That pervert's life was a small price to pay.

-0-0-0-

Emily was driving now. Their first suspect, Canello, had spent the last forty eight hours in a police cell after resisting arrest on a drug bust, so he was clear. The next on the list, Cy Mendip, was thirty minutes drive.

"This is taking too long!" fretted Morgan.

"It's the only way, unless we ask the PD for help."

Morgan sighed. "Guess you're right." He took out his phone and was about to call them when it rang. It was Reid.

"Hey, kid. I didn't think they allowed Cell phones in the hospital!"

"They don't."

"Then why...?"

"I'm not in the hospital." Reid said. "I discharged myself, now I want to find Aaron with you."

"You at the BAU?"

"Yes. I'm looking at the list Garcia gave you. There are some interesting names here."

"We're coming back." Morgan said as Emily turned the car round. "How is Rossi?"

There was a slight hesitation in Reid's voice. "Not good. He hasn't come round yet. He has an infection in the wound. They are worried about him."

Morgan thought that Reid was starting to break down. He could hear the distress in his voice.

"We're on our way back kid." he said. "Stay put."

Morgan broke the connection.

"You know he blames himself for Dave, don't you." Emily said.

"I know." Morgan replied. "He feels the need to redeem himself. We're going to have to help him."

-0-0-0-

Markus pulled Aaron onto his back and stood over him, one foot either side of his hips, and he leaned forwards to his feet and pulled the sweat pants on him. Aaron groaned as his weight pressed down on his mangled hand, and the damage deep inside emitting pain in waves in time with his heart beat. The tears running down the sides of his face into his hair cut paths through the drying blood on his beaten face.

"Please..." His voice brittle and dead as autumn leaves. "I need ...some water."

Markus turned around so that he was now facing him. He looked down at the weak and powerless man. The once handsome strong face battered almost beyond recognition; his nose a bloody and crushed mess, lips torn and cracked, his cheek cut and bruised.

But his eyes...

There was a strength there that they hadn't managed to break. They were dark, shiny with tears, but with a depth and life that he had not seen before in a man so obviously defeated.

Markus stepped away from him. "I will get you some water."

He went to Nixon, who was still cataloguing the poison.

"He wants a drink." Markus said.

"Give him a little, not too much. I don't want him to regain his strength. Give him enough to keep him alive."

Markus took a bottle to Aaron, knelt by his head and tipped a little into his mouth. Aaron wasn't ready, and he choked and coughed on the liquid. Markus took away the bottle.

"That's all you get." he said.

Aaron licked the drops off his lips. Most of the water he had lost, but he had managed to keep some. Even that tiny drop was a blessing.

"Thank you." he said softly.

Markus pushed Aaron against the wall. He was lying on his side with his back against the wall where his hands were bound. He was still losing blood, but it didn't seem to matter any more. Once they started testing the Ricin, he was dead anyway. He had seen what Ricin did to people.

He was grateful that he was lying on his left side. He had no feeling in his right arm now, only a searing pain in his shoulder. He wondered if he would ever regain use of his arm or hand. He didn't even know if his fingers were still there.

He knew he was crying, but the tears were tears of frustration and anger at himself for allowing this to happen. And tears of grief for his dead friends, Dave and Spencer. He had so much he wanted to say to them, gratitude for their steadfast love and support. And tears of distress for his little boy who had lost everyone in his life who loved him.

_Oh Jacky, I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than I have been able to give you._

The tears flowed from his eyes and stung as they ran over his smashed nose, and dripped from his cheek onto the floor.

He rested his head on the concrete and closed his eyes. He thought if he was really lucky, if things at last would go his way, maybe he would die in his sleep.


	9. Closing In Closing Down

Chapter 9  
Closing In; Closing Down  


"_**I want to be all used up when I die." -**____** George Bernard Shaw**_

When Emily and Morgan arrived back, Spencer was pacing up and down the walkway at the BAU office, going over the list of names again and again. His arm was strapped across his chest and his shoulder dressed. He was wearing a tee shirt because he couldn't get a shirt on over the dressing, and a jacket over his shoulders. His skin was white and grey around his eyes, and Morgan's stomach lurched to see him looking so ill.

"Sit down, Reid. You should be resting!" he said, guiding Spencer forcibly to his desk. "Ok, you said you had something. What is it?"

"This name here." Reid pointed to the forth name down. "Wasn't that the name of the woman caught up in that bogus kidnapping a few years back?"

"Bennisson. Yes I think you're right. Pauline Bennisson. Nothing came of it; charges were dropped. So this Carl Bennisson could be related."

"Garcia's searching now for information." Reid said, trying to stand. Morgan's heavy hand on the top of his head kept him seated.

"We'll go see how she's getting on, kid. You don't move out of that chair."

Reid pressed his lips together, and Morgan and Emily went to see Garcia. She glanced over her shoulder at them, but she didn't smile. She was so happy to have Reid back, but there was still Rossi and Hotch. She was scared.

"Pauline Bennisson is Carl's mother. The kidnapping scam was with Carl's youngest sister Faye. No charges were brought, so there's nothing on the police records."

"I can remember that now." Morgan said. "There was no evidence, nothing could be proved, so they got away with it."

"What happened to the ransom money?" Emily asked.

"The bank gave them the cash for the drop, but the drop was never made. So they didn't get the money, and it went back to the bank." Morgan said. "We need to visit Pauline Bennisson." he added. "Reid can come with me. Emily, take JJ and visit Marino's family. See what you can dig up."

-0-0-0-

A child of about eight answered the door. She looked at Morgan and went to close it again. Morgan put his hand on it and pushed it open.

"Hello, you must be Faye. Is your Mummy in?"

The child called over her shoulder without taking her eyes off the two Feds at the door.

"Mum! The cops for you."

She stayed at the door, defying them to cross the threshold. For such a small child, she was quite intimidating. Reid could remember girls like that at school. The girls were the worst.

Pauline came to the door, and Faye left.

Pauline was a heavy woman in her forties with too much testosterone, and not enough money. She had a sullen grey face that radiated misery. A cigarette was in her hand, held between her forefinger and thumb, the lighted end towards her palm.

"What the hell do you want?" she said to Morgan.

Morgan could remember her. Lovely woman. She hadn't changed.

"We would like to speak to Carl." Morgan said, showing her his ID. "Is he in?"

"Carl doesn't live here any more. He moved out to go live with that creepy friend of his." Pauline called out to her daughter. "Oi! Eff! What's the name of that creep Carl went off with?"

"I dunno do I? Mark or summink."

"Yeah Mark, or Markus he likes to be called. Pretentious little git."

"Do you have an address?" Reid asked.

"Oh it speaks!" Pauline smiled a brown nicotine smile, eyes widening. "I was wondering if your voice was as sweet as the rest of you."

She leaned forward and for a terrifying moment, Spencer thought she was going to kiss him. He took a step back and trod on Morgan's foot. But all she said was:

"I'll go and get the address."

Reid tried not to cringe as her breath wafted over him. But he wasn't sure how successful he was. He would ask Morgan later. He could do with some feedback on the progress of his social skills.

When she returned, she gave the address to Morgan because Reid was standing behind him.

As they walked away, it was all Morgan could do to not fall about laughing. Neither spoke until they were in the car driving off. Just around the corner, Morgan stopped the car and howled with laughter. Reid looked at him crossly.

"Oh ha ha. Very funny!"

"I remember ..." Morgan said, "When you asked me how I did it!" He curled forward clutching his ribs. "Guess you know now!" and he threw his head back onto the head rest and cried.

"Do you want me to drive?" Reid said.

-0-0-0-

As it started to get dark, Nixon went to Aaron and knelt down beside him.

"We're leaving now." he said. Aaron just stared at him. "Just to make sure you are here when we get back in the morning, I am going to take certain precautions."

He took a piece of cloth from his pocket and stuffed it in Aaron's mouth. Aaron shook his head in sheer panic, his eyes wide and pleading. He couldn't breathe through his broken nose, and now he was suffocating. Nixon wrapped duct tape around his head, holding the gag in place. Aaron fought for breath, but he had no airway. Nixon pushed him onto his back and sat astride his chest.

"Keep still if you want to breathe."

He had in his hand two thin metal tubes. He held Aaron's head still by holding his hair, and with the other hand he forced the tubes into his nose. The agony was terrible; He arched his back and made distressed sounds in his throat. But he could breathe. His eyes were streaming, and his body was shaking. Sweat was running off his skin, and his nose was pouring blood down the sides of his face again. He wanted to be sick, the pain was so bad. He felt acid rise into his throat and stop there, burning, and choking. He felt his eyes roll, but he desperately needed to remain conscious. He forced himself to stay awake, he looked up at Nixon. He wanted to ask why he was doing this. But all he could do was look.

Nixon lifted Aaron's head, and wrapped the tape across his eyes. Aaron twisted and struggled, but Nixon held fast to his hair and he couldn't resist. Then Nixon taped his elbows to his body, and restrained his legs at the knees and ankles. He could hear Aaron's breaths through the tubes, but now he was totally helpless.

"Just making sure you will be here in the morning." he said in Aaron's ear, and he shoved him against the wall and left him lying there in the blood that was collecting around his hips.

Aaron shivered on the wet floor. His body was shaking with fear and cold. He wasn't able to move, the slightest move of his legs and hips felt like knives inside him. His shoulder screamed pain at him, and his nose was pumping gouts of blood onto his face and dripping onto the floor.

The pain started in his chest and shot down his left arm; his heart was giving up.

He wondered if it really was worth the fight. The Ricin was going to kill him. There was no hope of rescue. Dave and Spencer were dead.

Heart failure could be good.

He heard the door close as his tormentors left.

Minutes...or hours...days...he had no sense of time...later, he could hear scratching, scurrying sounds as the creatures who lived in the building emerged on their nightly forage for food. Their little noses twitched and their soft whiskers trembled as they detected a new food source. One that would last. One by one, they explored the perimeter of the room, before they found what they were looking for.


	10. Waking Nightmare

**A/N Sorry sis – Next chapter, I promise!**

Chapter 10  
Waking Nightmare

Emily and JJ sat in a small cramped living room in Carlotta Marino's little house. It was clean and bright and full of furniture, as if they had moved here from a much bigger house. Mrs Marino was obviously of Italian descent. She had dark hair with streaks of grey, which she wore loose. Her clothes were black and her eyes were red and swollen. When the agents had arrived, she had been surrounded by extended family, but Mrs Marino had sent them into another room while she spoke to Emily and JJ.

"I can't believe it." she sobbed. "My baby! My only child...gone!" She pressed her hands to her eyes as if to stop the tears. "You might find this hard to believe, and I expect all Mums will say the same about their children, but Tony was a good boy." She lifted her head and looked at Emily through tear filled eyes. "I know he had been in prison, but when he came out, he turned over a new leaf, and kept clear of trouble. He said he didn't want to hurt me again." She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It was only since he started to hang around with that horrible man that he changed." The tears ran unchecked down her cheeks and dripped onto her pristine skirt.

Emily leaned forwards and took her hands in hers.

"It's that man we want to find, Mrs Marino."she said. "Tell me everything you can about him. Everything, however small, it could be important."

"His name was Nick, I think. He was older than Tony, probably in his late thirties. He filled Tony with ideas about starting up a new religion, following his ways and ideas. I didn't really understand what it was about, but they needed money to get started." She gripped Emily's hands tight. "That's what they were doing in the bank. Raising money for the 'cause' as he called it."

"Do you know where we can find Nick?" JJ asked. Carlotta shook her head.

"No. He only came here once, then only for a short while. Tony usually went to him. They meet...used to meet ..." she stopped speaking as her crying intensified. JJ passed a tissue box to her and she wiped her eyes. "Yeah...used to meet at the home of a man called Markus. I never met him though."

Emily stood up. "I am so sorry that you are going through this, Mrs Marino." she said. "We are going to go now, and leave you with your family." She gave Carlotta her card. "If you think of anything else please call me."

She stood up and walked to the door with Emily and JJ. "I will call you. The funeral it tomorrow. You are welcome to come."

"That's very kind." JJ said. "Thank you."

As they walked back to the car, Emily's phone rang. It was Reid.

"We have an address for Nixon." he said. "He's not living with his Mum anymore."

"Marino hung around with someone called Nick. Could it be the same person?" Emily said. "They met at the home of someone called Markus."

"That was the name of the man that Nixon went off with."

"So there is a connection between the three. Nixon, Markus and Marino."

Reid read out the Nixon address. "We'll meet up there." Reid said.

Emily and JJ got in their car and set the sat-nav.

-0-0-0-

Aaron lay in his personal hell and felt the fur of unknown creatures brush against his skin. He made sounds in his throat as he imagined what was happening as they found the smashed flesh that was his right hand. Feeling had long gone in his right arm and hand, but he knew the rats were there, tiny movements as they hungrily licked the blood from his broken hand. There was something touching his face, licking and nipping at the flesh around his nose. He pulled his head back, but he knew he had no way to stop what was happening. Tears welled up behind the tape wrapped around his eyes; he ground his teeth together trying to cope with the pain and the fear of the unknown and unseen.

He heard the door open and slam closed and the creatures were gone.

Was it morning already?

He tried to move, but again the feeling of being ripped apart inside stopped him. The sudden pain caused his teeth to come down on his tongue, and his mouth filled with warm blood. He retched as he tried to swallow it, and again, his throat burned.

Someone's rough hands pulled him as far away from the wall as possible. He felt the tape binding his legs loosen, and his clothes were once again ripped away.

_Oh god no...please, not again...not again!..._

This time he couldn't scream. He could barely move. The hands positioned him, and the abuse began. This time there was no-one to stop it. He tried to fight, but his arms were taped to his body. He twisted and tried to turn over, but after a while he realised that the more he fought, the more excited his abuser became.

The pain was terrible, made worse by the binding around his head stopping him from reacting. The rapist closed off the breathing tubes, and Aaron's body started to shake as he was starved of oxygen. Then, as Aaron was about to pass out, the tubes were released. As his strength returned, once again, the tubes were closed.

And again and again...

He lay still and let the abuse happen. Hands gripped the shirt and jacket that he was still wearing, and pushed them up over his head. He felt teeth biting into his back, drawing blood, fingers gripping at the muscles on his back. Aaron lay with his head on one side, trying to block out what was happening, counting his breaths, listening to his heart beat, counting the vicious thrusts of the man on top of him.

He had no idea how long it went on for, but it seemed like hours. He was exhausted and couldn't fight. He felt blood trickle down the sides of his chest, and off his hips onto the floor.

Then suddenly the abuser reached the end. Aaron heard him yelp and cry out, and then he collapsed down on top of him.

The weight of the sweat covered stinking body lying on top of him made him heave.

Was it over?

As the rapist moved away, Aaron felt blood gush, and he wondered how long it would take for him to bleed out.

Reid could tell him, but Reid was dead.

He listened to the sounds of heavy breathing. Hands touching him, caressing him, stroking his hair. Aaron felt sick. Was it over, or was he getting ready for another session.

Aaron didn't care any more. His body was no longer his. It belonged to this man who he thought would not stop until Aaron was dead.

The second time, Aaron didn't struggle. The abuser was simply taking what was his, what he had won. Aaron did not have the right to withhold anything. Nothing was his. His owner took his prize. The only movement Aaron made was when he arched his back and threw back his head as the pain hit. When the rapist punched him on the side of the head, he was doing as he pleased with what was his.

Aaron was in pain throughout his abused and beaten body. He was going to die very soon. But he no longer cared. He was no longer in control of his life. The control belonged to someone else. When he died, it would be someone else's loss, not his.

The thoughts calmed him.

When the abuse stopped the second time, the rapist pulled down Aaron's shirt and jacket and dressed him again.

Aaron was too weak to do anything. His shirt stuck to the bites on his back, and the sweat pants were wet and bloody and cold. He lay there on the floor shivering, and a foot slid him back against the wall through a growing river of blood. A kick to his bound head, Aaron jerked backwards and the back of his head hit the wall. Aaron's body had taken enough, and he slipped into a dark world where no-one could hurt him.

The door opened and closed again. No-one had spoken.

-0-0-0-

"_**Dear God, let this be just a bad nightmare.**__**" - **__**Roy Horn**_


	11. Testing Times

Chapter 11  
Testing Times

"_**I abhor vivisection with my whole soul. All the scientific discoveries stained with innocent blood I count as of no consequence." - Mahatma Gandhi **_

"Morgan," Reid said quietly.

Morgan looked across at Reid, and his stomach lurched. Reid looked really ill. His skin was an unhealthy greyish white, and the shadows around his eyes were darker than usual.

"Morgan, I'm going to be sick."

"I'm taking you back to the hospital, Kiddo." Morgan said. "Right now!"

He turned the car in the road and headed back towards the Potomac Hospital.

"Not the hospital, Morgan." Reid said. "Take me back to the BAU."

Morgan stopped the car. "Look Reid, you shouldn't have discharged yourself." He reached over and rested his hand on Reid's arm. "You should be in hospital."

"Derek, I can't. I need to help find Hotch. I need to be out here."

Reid opened the door of the car and stood on the verge. He leaned a hand on the roof of the car and bent forwards. He threw up on the grass. Morgan got out and walked round the front of the car and put his hand on Reid's back, rubbing his spine between his shoulder blades.

"I'll take you back, Reid, but please, please go to the hospital if you feel any worse." Morgan said. "The truth is, we need you on this case." He handed Reid a packet of wipes.

"Thanks. " he said. "I don't think I'd be too good in the field at the moment. I'd be a liability." He held his hands up, and watched them shake.

He wiped his mouth and hands on the wipes, and gave the packet back to Morgan. "So you'll take me back to the BAU?"

Morgan nodded, pressing his lips together resignedly. "Only if you promise to call the hospital if you get any worse."

"Ok." Reid got back into the car and rested his head back on the head rest. Morgan started the engine and rejoined the traffic.

-0-0-0-

Spencer sat in Garcia's bunker, (Morgan had said he was to stay with her at all times.) going over the case files again and again. He could remember every word that was written, but sometimes looking at them again, new things jumped out at him.

Nothing was jumping. He sighed and slapped the papers down on the desk.

"I need coffee. You want one?"

"Mmm." Garcia said, not really listening. Reid got up and made his way to the kettle. He made his with extra sugar. He could think better in a sugar rush, and he surely needed to think at the moment. He took the mugs back to Garcia, and put Garcia's down on a shelf beside her desk. She didn't acknowledge him, intent as she was on the screen in front of her. Reid went back to the pile of paper he had been going through.

There had to be something. The third day was starting, and they still had no idea where the UnSubs were holding Aaron, or any clue as to why they were. There had been no ransom demand, no contact with the media or police, and there hadn't been any civilians injecting themselves into the investigation.

They needed Aaron for something. If they could work out what they needed him for, maybe they would be able to track him down before it was too late.

-0-0-0-

The night creatures didn't return after the door closed. Aaron realised that it must be morning. He moved slightly, his left arm and shoulder were tingling where he had been laying on them, and it hurt as the blood flowed to his finger tips again. He tilted his head, listening for any signs that his kidnappers were retuning. When he heard the door open, his stomach heaved.

Again, no-one spoke. Aaron was pushed onto his front, and he felt his wrist restraints being cut. His arms fell apart to his sides, and he made a crying sound in his throat as his muscles protested at being moved. Hands grabbed his ankles and he was dragged across the concrete floor. Then hands lifted him and he was sat on a chair. The agony was indescribable, a thousand blades ripping his insides asunder. His head back, he wanted to scream, the sounds of distress from his throat rising unbidden, tears filling the hollows of his eyes behind the tape.

The restraints around his knees and ankles were cut, and his feet were twisted around the backs of the chair legs and taped in place. Then more was wrapped around his chest and arms holding his body against the back of the chair, his hands falling at his sides.

His shoulder sent waves of pain through him, he thought he was going to faint. Suddenly, and without warning, the breathing tubes were removed. Instantly his swollen damaged airways were cut off, and breathing became impossible. Ha made frightened sounds in his throat, not understanding why they were torturing him. It went against everything that he had worked out about them.

They needed him as a test subject, so they needed him fairly healthy to get accurate results. Yet they couldn't seem to help hurting him. It was senseless and frightening.

He stopped thinking about it as his body was deprived of oxygen. He tried to force his airway open, and he panicked, shaking his head from side to side and shuddering with desperation.

He felt something metal and cold against his temple, and the layers of duct tape across his eyes were ripped away. Some of his eye lashes were ripped away with it. He blinked painfully in the sudden light, and he saw Nixon in front of him, holding the scissors, smiling. Aaron's eyes were huge and terrified, as he gradually suffocated. He pressed his toes on the floor and clenched and unclenched his left hand.

Then Nixon spoke. "I will cut away the tape across your mouth now. If you speak, or scream, or make any other sound, I will replace it. Do you understand?"

Aaron tried to nod his head. His oxygen starved muscles refused to co-operate, and he just stared at Nixon, his life giver.

A hand grasped his fringe and lifted him up from the floor. He pushed his face close to Aaron's.

"Do you understand?"

Aaron's eyes rolled upwards and he fainted. Nixon pushed him back down again angrily. He slid the scissors between the tape and his cheek, and cut through the layers. He pulled the tape away, removing delicate skin from Aaron's lips, blood welling up and running down his chin. His head slumped forwards.

Nixon slapped Aaron's face as hard as he could, hoping to waken him. His head jerked to the side, but he remained unconscious. For a moment, Nixon thought he might have gone too far and killed him. He felt his neck for a pulse, and was pleased when he found one.

Nixon called to Markus. "Get some water, will you, to wake him up." he shouted. "He's at least got to start the trial conscious!"

As Markus handed Nixon the water, he looked warily at the blood trail across the floor where the test subject had been dragged. Nixon noticed.

"Don't look so nervous. I know you came back for more last night."

Markus flinched as Nixon moved his arm, and Nixon laughed.

"It's ok, I know what you are. When he's dead, you can have him back!"

Markus smirked. Things were getting better and better.

Nixon threw the ice cold water at Aaron's face. He groaned weakly, and attempted to lift his head. He saw Markus staring at him greedily; Markus, the one who owned him, the one to whom he belonged, the one for whom his death would mean something. He lowered his head in humiliation, filled with self loathing and abhorrence at his own helplessness. Tears of shame flooded his face and fell silently. Markus pulled his head back by the hair, so that he was looking into the pale eyes of Nixon, the man who was to become his executioner. He smiled at Aaron, holing up a small vial of clear liquid.

"This," he said, "Is a dilute form of the newly developed Ricin. You will feel the effects within a minute of ingestion. All we need to know is, will it kill you." He snapped the top off the glass vial. "All you need to do, is die."

Markus yanked Aaron's head back as far as he could. Aaron's eyes watered; he thought Markus was going to break his neck, Aaron felt something give and pain echoed through his brain. Nixon tipped the tiny drop of liquid into Aaron's throat. Desperate not to swallow it, he coughed and choked on it. But Markus held his jaw closed, and, fighting again for breath, he swallowed the poison.

Markus let go of Aaron's face, and his head fell forward again.

Markus and Nixon sat on the table and watched the first test.


	12. Ricin

**A/N - I have replaced part of the URL with xxxxxxxx so you wont be able to find it!**

Chapter 12  
Ricin

_**/en/xxxxxxxxxxx/irresponsibleactivities/163208.html  
How to make Ricin.**_

_So why would UnSubs take a hostage?  
Ransom demand? No.  
Human shield? No, they had already escaped.  
To draw attention to a cause? No responsibility has been claimed.  
To sell onto foreign terrorists? A FBI Agent would fetch a high price.  
...a possibility...  
_  
Spencer paced up and down in Garcia's bunker, mumbling to himself. Garcia banged her pen down on the desk, making Reid jump, and stand still for the first time in over an hour.

"Ok, Sweetie, if you seriously want to drive me insane, you are going the right way about it." she said in exasperation. "If you really have to pace and mumble, go do it on the walkway!"

Reid smiled a straight lipped smile. "Sorry, Garcia."

He left the bunker, and paced the walkway, and continued his thoughts...

_Why?  
The slave or sex trade? But then they wouldn't have beaten him...no  
Personal revenge? That was a possibility too. Dave had killed one of them. But that was after they had taken Aaron as a hostage...Human shield to start with, then kept him for revenge? Possible...  
Revenge...Were they hurting him? Torturing him?  
Or maybe they'd killed him already and dumped his body somewhere..._

He stood still and waited for the image of Aaron's beaten and broken body lying dead and alone to fade. He felt sick again.

He looked up at the door to Aaron's office. He was due back to work yesterday, and he had been so happy. The best he had been for a long time. Reid felt tears of sadness and anger fill his eyes.

He needed a distraction. He checked the time. He had been calling the hospital regularly since he'd been back. It was time to check on Dave again, however annoyed it made the staff.

He went to his desk and picked up the phone.

-0-0-0-

As awareness returned, he felt as if he was floating in gentle blackness. He thought he ought to be hurting - he could remember being shot – but there was no pain anywhere. Soft velvety fingers held him, embracing him, keeping him safe. He could hear a voice saying his name, it sounded as if he was hearing it through water, and he wanted to go to the voice. He realised he could move, and he stretched out to take hold of the one who was calling him...

"David, David, can you hear me?" the voice said. "If you can, grip my hand."

He concentrated on that part of his body, and slowly curled his fingers around the hand. He made an effort to open his eyes.

"Thought...I died." he said, his voice rough and uneven. "Mouth dry."

He felt a wet sponge on his lips, and he gratefully sucked the water from it. His eyes now open; he looked at the nurse, and attempted a smile.

"Thank you."

"Someone called Spencer has been calling every hour to check on you." The phone rang at the end of the corridor outside Dave's room. "That'll be him now. This time I have good news for him." She smiled at the man who had been lying unconscious for the best part of three days. "It's good to have you back, David. I'll come and check on you in a little while."

She gave his hand a squeeze and left the room.

Dave stared at the ceiling, remembering...

Spencer had been with him, he had shot an UnSub. They had Aaron.

He needed to speak to Reid. He needed to know if they had freed Aaron.

With those thoughts, Dave fell asleep...

-0-0-0-

"Where's Reid?" Emily asked as Morgan got out of the car. He had parked next to Emily's SUV at the end of the road where Nixon and Markus had their last known address.

"Back at the BAU." Morgan said. "It's the third house along. JJ you take the back. But you'll not have any back up, so stay hidden unless anyone makes a run for it."

She nodded, drew her weapon, and ran quickly around the back of the houses.

Emily and Morgan moved silently along the deserted street to the old house. It was a Dutch colonial, white with a turret and veranda. Emily though it was too pretty to be the lair of kidnappers.

She prayed that they would find Hotch here.

Bent forward, weapons ready, they approached the front door. Morgan tried the handle, but it was locked as he expected. He kicked the door open.

"FBI!"

-0-0-0-

Aaron shakily raised his head. His mouth was hurting, as if it was burnt. He licked his skinned lips.

Nixon sat forward. His test subject was feeling the effects of the poison. He glanced at his watch. Thirty six seconds since he had forced the Ricin down the Fed's throat. That was good, a fast reaction time. He tapped the information into his palm top, slid off the table and stooped down in front of his captive.

"What are you feeling?"

Aaron stared at him in defiance. He wasn't going to help this evil twisted man with his experiments. Nixon put his hand under Aaron's chin and gripped his jaw. He tilted his head so that they were almost touching.

"You don't seem to understand." he said slowly. "If I don't get the information I need from you, I will have to find another subject. I am going to kill you anyway. Do you want to die knowing you are responsible for another death? An unnecessary death?"

Aaron blinked. "Burning." he said softly.

He felt bile and acid rise in his throat. He pulled his face away, and vomited violently on the floor. He coughed and heaved even though his stomach was empty, and his insides cramped and twisted. He moaned as the burning in his mouth was exacerbated by the rising acids. Each time he thought it was the end, he cried out in agony, then his stomach heaved again, and he vomited nothing again.

His eyes streamed, and he cried out in pain. He wanted to bend forwards, ease the dreadful cramps that were screwing him up from the inside. He felt blood pump out onto the chair, and as weakness finally overcame him, he slumped forwards and fainted.

Nixon shook him awake. "Not sleepy time yet, Fed."

Aaron had no energy. He couldn't lift his head. His head rocked from side to side as Nixon shook him. He felt blood run from his smashed nose, and his tears were blood stained as they fell from his eyes onto the chair between his legs. He cried and sobbed in terrible agony as his captors watched.

Nixon tapped into his palm top.

_36secs Burning  
58secs Vomiting/fainting  
1m28secsHaemorrhage_

"You can have him tonight, Markus." he said with a satisfied smile. "Just don't kill him yet."

They continued to watch the dying man closely. Markus's eyes shone with anticipation.

-0-0-0-

The house was empty of furniture. There were blinds at the windows, all pulled shut. One by one, Morgan and Emily cleared the rooms that led of the entrance hall. The last room, the kitchen, showed signs that someone was, or at least had been living there. There were food packets and coffee on the work top, and milk in the fridge. Morgan made a note of it to come back to and bag everything. He came out of the kitchen into the hall. Emily was standing at the foot of a wide staircase at the end of the hall. Half way up, the stairs split into two, and turned left and right, leading to a gallery onto which the first floor rooms opened.

They silently crept up the stairs. When they got to the half way landing, Morgan indicated for Emily to take the left, as he took the right.

There were three rooms on each side. The first one Emily came to was a bathroom. She moved onto the next.

A bedroom with a mattress and food boxes on the floor.

The third room was a bit more interesting. She beckoned Morgan across to her. He nodded and cleared the last room on his side, and ran around the gallery and looked into the last room.

Along one wall was an old bench. And on the bench was a computer.

Morgan called Garcia.

-0-0-0-

"Hey, Sweetie, Morgan's asked me to go to the Nixon house." Garcia said to Reid as she put on her coat and beads. "Can I trust you not to go out?"

Spencer nodded. He felt too sick to even think at the moment. He longed to sit down, but he didn't want Garcia to think he was getting worse and call the hospital. As soon as she had gone, though, Reid sat down and rested his head on the desk.

_Think Reid...why?..._

Suddenly he remembered something Morgan had mentioned that Marino's mother had said...

...a new religion...

Was that the clue they had missed?

Reid's mind went over the precedents.

Starting with the botched Wako fiasco, there had been several charismatic men who had drawn others after them for the sole reason of gaining power over weaker minds.

All had a weapon stash, and all the 'leaders' had an escape route.

And their head quarters all had certain things in common.

Reid began a list:

_Somewhere deserted and defendable,  
Large enough to accommodate the followers,  
Safe to store weaponry,  
Somewhere with land to allow for self-sufficiency._

Reid excitedly pulled a map out of his drawer and took it into Garcia's bunker. He sat in her chair and began tapping keys.

She would probably string him up for this, he thought.

_She'll have to catch me first..._

He ran his finger down the list on the screen.


	13. Dying to Save

Chapter 13  
Dying to Save

_**Clarice Starling said, "They don't have a name for what he is." (Silence of the Lambs)**_

There were about fifteen places that met with the criteria that he had entered. He needed to narrow it down.

_Accessible by road  
High elevation_

He added that to the search, and was left with three possible. Two factories and an aerodrome. Two were close together, within ten miles of each other, and north of Quantico. The third was a factory to the west, over the Chopawamsic Creek, near the Breckenridge Reservoir.

He'd go north first; check out the aerodrome and the old car plant. Then he'd drive back down to the third possibility, the quarry and cement manufacturing plant.

He quickly called Morgan to let him know what he had discovered, but his phone was out of service. He was glad in a way that he couldn't speak to Morgan. He knew that Morgan would tell him to wait, but he didn't want to. He needed to get to Aaron as soon as he could. Any delay could prove fatal.

He left the information on Garcia's screen, and carefully removed the sling holding his right arm against his body. He dropped it into the bin by Garcia's desk, and hurried to the lift.

Once inside, he leaned against the side and breathed heavily. He was getting periods of dizziness that he put down to lack of caffeine and sugar. He decided to stop at a drive thru on the way past. He went to his own car and slid into the driver's seat. He flexed and unflexed his right arm a few times, and started the engine.

_I'm going to find you, Aaron. I promise you that..._

-0-0-0-

Garcia sat in front of the computer.

"It could have a self destruct program on the hard drive." she said, "But Lookie what I've got!"

She produced a memory stick from her purse and plugged it into a USB slot.

"All my own work!" She started booting up the desk top.

"What about the lap top." Morgan said. "Time is short; I don't really want to go back to the BAU again."

"Ok." she smiled. "I'll do my best."

"That's my Baby Girl!" Morgan lightly touched her hair and went down to the kitchen to bag and tag everything that wasn't nailed down. Emily and JJ were already there.

"It looks as if only one person actually lived here." she said. "Only one cup, fork and plate. I think that when Nixon, Mark, Bennisson and Marino went off together, they didn't live here."

"I think you are right. We're at the wrong place." Morgan sighed and rubbed the back of his head in frustration. "Stay here with Garcia; I'm going back to Pauline Bennisson to see if I can get into Carl's room. Would you two go to the Marino house when Garcia's got everything she can, and do the same. Someone left a clue. We just have to find it."

Morgan hurried down to his car. He wasn't particularly looking forward to meeting the lovely Mrs Bennisson again, but at least he wouldn't have to fight her off Reid!

-0-0-0-

Aaron was still alive as the sun went down on the third day.

Alive, but barely.

He was cyanotic; breathing was harsh and rattled in his throat. His body shook uncontrollably. He knew he was losing a lot of blood, he was bleeding from his ears, and he was vomiting black blood, He knew also that his insides were breaking down, it hurt so much now; his whole world was one of pain and terror. He had no memory of being happy. He knew that once, quite recently, he had been, but how it felt to be happy was lost to him. Somewhere deep in his mind, he had images of a woman and a child. He didn't know who they were, but the images brought a measure of comfort into his hell. He tried desperately to cling to the images as they faded into mist

Rough hands lifted his head. He opened his eyes, trying to focus on Nixon. His eyes wouldn't focus. When the hands released his head, he didn't have the strength to hold it up, and it simply dropped back onto his chest with a soft moan of pain. He felt the bonds holding him to the chair loosen, and he fell sideways onto the floor. His body jarred as it hit the cold concrete. Tonight they didn't bother to restrain him.

"I don't think you will be going anywhere tonight, Hotchner." he heard a voice say in the distance, "And Markus is going to be looking after you."

He didn't move from where he had fallen. A thousand miles away, he heard a door open and close again.

-0-0-0-

"You again! What do you want this time?"

"Hello, Mrs Bennisson." Morgan smiled sweetly. "I would like to see Carl's room please."

Pauline sighed dramatically, and stepped aside so that Morgan could enter. He stepped into the dingy hall. The nicotine coloured nets at the window shut out what little light there was left in the day, and the thirty watt bulb glowed fitfully.

"Top of the stairs, first door on the left."

Morgan thanked her and went upstairs. The treads creaked beneath the worn carpet; everything smelled of cigarettes. The chipped white paint on the balustrades and handrail was now yellow, as was the door to Carl's room. Morgan opened it and went in.

There was no computer. He either didn't have one, or he had taken it with him.

He made a mental note to ask Pauline if he had taken it with him. It didn't seem likely, as there was no computer paraphernalia on the desk. But there was a pile of notebooks. He took the one off the top of the pile and opened it at random.

It looked like a table of lab results. He flicked through the book, and it was more of the same. There was nothing to indicate what the test was that the results were for. He put the book down, and flicked through the next one.

It was the third note book that really piqued his interest.

Page after page of well documented chemical reactions. The heading in the front of the book was, _'Extraction of Ricin from castor Beans'._

_Oh god no! ... Ricin! What the hell was going on?_

He put down the book and opened one of the drawers of the desk. There were two empty notebooks, underneath which Morgan found a handful of Castor Beans, the familiar black with purple markings. He took several of them and put them in an evidence bag.

The other drawer was empty, although something had been in there. In the corner was a thin piece of curved glass. This too he saved for evidence.

There was a full length cupboard behind him. It looked like a wardrobe, but when Morgan opened it, it contained shelves.

On the shelves was an assortment of chemical glassware and an electric burner. A cardboard box caught his eye. He pulled it out and carefully opened it. Inside there were small glass vials, ready for filling and sealing.

Was Carl Bennisson making Ricin?

Morgan's phone rang. It was the police chief.

"I was about to call you." Morgan said. "I'm in Carl Bennisson's bedroom, and it looks as if he was manufacturing Ricin. I'm going to call an APB on him."

"Don't bother." the Chief said. "I know where he is. Three feet in front of me with his head smashed in."

"How long?" Morgan tried to keep the shock from his voice.

"About three days, the pathologist reckons." he answered. "Coincides with your agent disappearing."

"I'll secure the scene," Morgan said, "So that you can get the CSU up here."

Morgan broke the connection.

Bennisson had been making Ricin.  
Now he was dead, probably murdered.  
Had he been delivering Ricin and something went wrong?  
It was the same time as Hotch was kidnapped, and the kidnappers were known associates of Bennisson.

Of the four, only Nixon and Markus were still alive.

If they had the Ricin...and Hotch...?

_Oh god_

-0-0-0-

Reid drove away from the aerodrome. There was nothing there; it was deserted, just huge empty hangars. As soon as he pulled up beside the building he could see that it wouldn't have been a very secure place to house a cult. It couldn't easily be defended, and it would have been difficult to make it comfortable enough to live in.

When he reached the car plant, he drove around the building, checking for vehicles. There were none, but it looked as if someone had recently entered in through a back door.

Reid parked the car and, drawing his gun, crept silently to the door. It was swinging open in the evening breeze.

Shining his flashlight ahead of him, he found himself in a huge room cluttered with old pieces of machinery. A sound behind him made him turn quickly.

A man was running towards him, waving what looked like a broom handle.

"I live here! I ain't gonna share!"

Reid took a surprised step back, and let his gun swing forwards on his finger as he raised his hands, palms out.

"It's ok, I'm looking for a friend!" he yelled above the howling of the strange man. "I don't want to share your home!"

The man stopped in his tracks. "There ain't no your friend here. I the only one living here. I ain't sharin'."

"Hey, that's fair enough." Reid said. "Have you seen anyone else round here in the last few days?"

"Said, I live here, no-one else. Only me."

"Ok, that's fine." Reid said, backing towards the door. He could have said the man was harmless, but since he was armed with a broom handle, Reid didn't particularly want it broken across his head. He backed out of the door and shut it behind him.

That wasn't the place either. They would certainly have killed the old man if they were there.

He got back in the car and drove south west.

-0-0-0-

It was a long time before Markus touched Aaron. Aaron had the feeling that he was pacing around him, watching him. Aaron stayed still. He thought the less he moved the less blood he would lose. The Ricin had left him cold and he could see his fingers, distorted and broken, turning blue as his red cells broke down. He attempted to turn his head to face the other way to try and see his right hand. He couldn't move, but he couldn't work out if it was paralysis or weakness.

He wanted Spencer here, he could tell him. Thinking of his dead friend made him cry bloody tears again, and he felt blood trickle from his ears and nose.

He sensed Markus was close. Why was he doing this? Why? Aaron belonged to him. Why didn't he just take him? He wanted to speak to his owner, call him to claim what was his. Aaron's mouth was skinned and burned; he could taste blood on his tongue.

Aaron vomited again, unable to move off the floor, he coughed and choked into the blood already surrounding him.

Suddenly the hands lifted Aaron from the floor, and pulled his clothes from his body, dropping him down again naked on the floor. Face down; he shivered on the cold concrete, in his own cold clotting blood. His head was pulled back, and tape was wrapped around his eyes again, pressing the tape onto his eyelids.

"I like it so much better when you are helpless in my arms." hissed his owner.

Those arms wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides, he was lifted backwards into a kneeling position. The voice of his owner, whispered in his ear.

"Tonight, Baby, we are going to try something new"

Markus knelt behind Aaron, and pushed his knees between Aaron's legs, pushing them apart. Aaron hung forward, gripped in the Rapist's vicious embrace. The strong arms lifted Aaron's body, and lowered him brutally onto his lap. Aaron raised his head and screamed hoarsely. He was pressed down onto Markus, and blood gushed again, and in the agony of the rape, the violent and cruel thrusting into him, Aaron fainted in his arms.

-0-0-0-

As Spencer got out of the car, he heard the scream. A terrible frightened death rattle. Reid didn't hesitate. He ran forwards, holding his gun and flashlight up with his right hand, steadying it with his left. He could hear another voice, grunting rhythmically.

He opened the door where three days earlier, the van had driven, and he shone the flashlight into the room.

What he saw sickened him.

He didn't recognise the man being abused; only that he was beaten and unconscious, and Reid screamed across the room.

"Oh my god! FBI! Stop! Now! For god's sake, stop!"

Reid's voice was breaking, witnessing such inhuman brutality. He ran forward and grabbed hold of the rapist, who let go of his prey, pushing him away. Aaron's body fell forwards into the pool of blood and fluids, and the rapist turned to face the one who was spoiling his fun. He picked up a metal bar from the floor, and as he swung it at Reid's head, Reid fired.

The bullet his Markus on the shoulder, but the bar continued to draw the wide arc in the air, catching Reid on the side of his head, splitting his ear. Reid slipped backwards in the blood. There was no front sights or controlled trigger press, he just squeezed the trigger and emptied the clip. As he hit the floor, he heard the rapist hit the floor at the same time. The gun fell from his trembling fingers, and he carefully touched the bloody spike that protruded from the right side of his chest.


	14. Unknown Victim

Chapter 14  
Unknown Victim

_**Agapé – Non sexual love. Love that is wholly selfless and spiritual – Encarta Dictionary: English **_

Morgan called Emily. She was still at the Nixon house with Garcia.

"Bennisson has been making Ricin." he told her. "I've just had a call from the PD and Bennisson is dead."

"What happened to him?"

"Murdered. But there are no indications here to tell us where Nixon and Markus have gone, or where they might be holding Hotch."

"Garcia has found something here. It looks like plans of some sort. I'll put you on speaker." Emily said.

"It's interesting." Garcia said. No banter this time. "It looks like the before and after plans of a factory. There are no external changes, internal walls, dividing up the rooms, almost as if someone was converting it to live in."

_..."He filled Tony with ideas about starting up a new religion, following his ways and ideas. I didn't really understand what it was about, but they needed money to get started."..._

"Oh! Hold on!" Emily said. "Morgan, I've just thought of something. Remember when JJ and I went to see Mrs. Marino and she mentioned a new cult Nixon was trying to start. This could be the place where they are planning to start the commune!"

"Garcia, can you locate the place?"

"Already on it, Beau Babe!"

Morgan heard the sound of deft fingers on the keyboard. "The minute you have it, get over here to the Bennisson place. I'll wait for you."

Morgan cut the connection. This could be it. They were getting close.

-0-0-0-

Reid lay on his back impaled to the floor. He breathed carefully, and he saw bubbles around the base of the spike. He looked straight ahead, concentrating overcoming the pain, trying to move his right arm.

He thought he had hit his shoulder again when he fell, and now his right arm and hand were numb. He tried to flex his fingers, but the message wasn't getting through.

The UnSub, or whoever he was. Reid didn't know. He wasn't even sure if he was connected with the case, or if he had just walked in on a rather nasty rape. Either way, he needed to check on the victim, and make sure that the rapist wasn't going any where.

He lifted his head up and the pain that shot through him knocked him back down again. He blinked away the tears that had collected in his eyes, and looked down at the evil spike that was holding him down on the floor. It stuck through him about three inches. It looked like a broken pipe.

As he saw it, he had a choice. He could lie here and bleed out, and that probably meant the victim would die also. Or he could get up and do something.

He didn't know if he could pull the spike right through his chest. If it was attached to anything, he could do serious damage. The only way out was to lift himself off this thing, and hope it wasn't going through an artery.

He held the bloody spike with his left hand, holding it where it exited his chest, and biting his bottom lip, he slowly and carefully rolled sideways onto his left side.

He tasted blood in his mouth as his teeth bit down on his lip, but he screamed anyway and the piece of metal tore to the right where it entered his back. He lay still on his side, whimpering softly as he absorbed the new pain. He realised that his eyes were closed, and he opened them and looked across at the two people lying on the cold floor.

The victim. His body naked and tinged blue. It didn't look as if he had moved since the rapist threw him aside. Reid felt new tears of empathy and grief for this unknown man. He couldn't see any movement, but he could see blood and injuries. He was bleeding profusely and that was the only sign of life; a sign that was fading fast.

_The poor man will be dead by the time I get there. But I don't want him to die alone..._

The rapist was dead. His chest had red bloody holes where Reid had shot him, but his face was just a mess of flesh and brains. He wasn't going to be getting up again.

He turned back to the victim.

"I don't know who you are." he whispered, "But I am coming over to you now."

Removing the spike was dangerous, he knew that. But he couldn't lie here saving his own skin while an innocent beaten and abused man died within feet of him.

He attempted to reach around his back to the base of the spike with his left hand but he couldn't reach it. So carefully, he slid his hand to the top of the spike and held it steady. He wasn't sure whether to move quickly, and get it over with, or slowly and with care. As it turned out, the first way wasn't possible, as he could only move very slowly.

An inch at a time, Spencer eased himself along the spike, keeping hold of the tip with his left hand, keeping it still as much as his shaking hand could. Every few seconds he had to stop to catch his breath and control the trembling in his body. His hair was stuck to his face in sweat and tears, he wanted to push it aside but he couldn't let go of the spike.

The pain was making him sick. He stopped moving and breathed carefully. The last thing he wanted was to throw up on this wound in his chest. He took a few breaths and pushed forwards again. He felt the spike slide out of his hand as it re-entered his chest. With a final thrust back with his feet, he felt the spike come out of his back and he fell onto his face. He cried out in agony as he put his hand on the hole left by the spike in his chest. It was bleeding, but the flesh had closed up, and there were no bubbles escaping.

He looked at the victim. He still hadn't moved.

"OK, man, I'm coming over now."

Using his left hand, he reached forwards on the rough floor, and began to drag himself over to the bleeding man. He felt his phone in his pocket. As soon as he had reached the man he would call Morgan. But he couldn't waste time now. He had to reach the man before he died.

As he got closer, he saw that his hair, which was matted with blood and vomit, was dark. It stuck out around tape that was binding around his eyes. The evil bastard had taped his eyes. He must be so afraid. Reid felt his stomach knot at the thought.

Another few inches and he could touch the man.

"I'm almost with you. Please, just hold on."

Reid was now lying facing the man's back. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting, and gently, tenderly, he turned the man onto his back and cradled his head on his lap. He looked down on him as he stroked the man's hair.

Then he knew...

"Oh my god, Aaron...oh my good god!..." he whispered.

Spencer choked back grief as he looked on his friend with horrified eyes. He suddenly felt very dizzy, and he eased himself down so that he was lying next to him. He got out his phone, and, holding Aaron as close as he could, he speed dialled Morgan.

Morgan answered, but Reid was having difficulty forming words.

"Reid? Reid is that you? Where the hell are you? ...Reid, answer me Reid!"

He could hear Morgan calling him. He couldn't speak. He thought he was going to pass out.

"Derek...please...please help..." and the phone fell from his fingers.


	15. Spencer and Aaron

Chapter 15  
Spencer and Aaron

_**"If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend." - Stone Temple Pilots**_

Reid hovered in the twilight between the darkness of sleep and the light of wakefulness. He wanted to be awake. The cold injured man in his arms needed him. He drew him in closer. As he moved him, he felt a shiver run through Aaron's body, and his muscles tighten. A frightened sound fell from his lips, as he tried to draw away from him.

Spencer's heart overflowed with empathy and love. Ignoring his own pain, thinking only of Aaron's, he slipped his hands under Aaron's arms and gently moved him the short distance to the wall. He leaned on the wall, exhausted, and bent his knees up. Carefully, he lifted Aaron's head and shoulders onto his lap, holding him securely with his knees, gently touching his blood drenched face with his good left hand.

His chest wound was trickling blood. It felt like an iron band was tightening around him, and breathing was an effort. He had to think about each breath, and prepare himself each time for the inevitable pain. His cracked sternum was agony. He wanted to press on it each time he drew breath, but he needed to give comfort to his friend.

He looked down at the broken man in his arms. He touched the tape across his eyes. He couldn't imagine what he had gone through, being attacked and abused, without knowing who or why.

Aaron was trembling, afraid. He knew he was dying now. Someone was touching him. His mind screamed out. He just wanted to die in peace. He was so cold, so thirsty, and in greater pain than he thought possible...and so much blood...so...much...blood...  
A hand touched his face and he pulled back in fear.  
Then a voice...

"Aaron..." he whispered. "Aaron, it's Spence."

Aaron licked his dry skinned lips. Was it really Spence? Spencer had been killed. And Dave. Confusion flooded his mind as he tried to assimilate this new information. Spencer was alive?

He tried to speak but all he could manage was a soft sigh. He wanted to touch the person who was touching him. He lifted his left hand; he needed to touch this one claiming to be Spencer. The gentle caressing of his face ceased, and the hand took his own hand, and held it against his face.

"Touch me, Aaron. It's me..."

Aaron's broken fingers could still feel. They could feel Spencer's lips, his cheek bones, the huge deep eyes, the long eyelashes. He touched Spencer's long soft hair; he opened his fingers and felt his face...

"Spencer..." A long sigh, the single word only just perceptible.

Spencer held Aaron's hand still against his face. When he heard Aaron speak his name, he felt tears in his eyes. He wanted to uncover Aaron's eyes, the source of his emotions and expressions. He leaned forwards towards him.

"Aaron," Aaron's fingers moved against his lips. "Aaron, I am going to try to free your eyes. I don't want to hurt you. Tell me if it hurts, and I will stop."

Aaron licked his lips again. He wanted to tell Spencer how much he loved him, how he valued him.

He said, "Want...to see...you..."

Spencer laid Aaron's hand across his chest. He found the end of the tape, and carefully pulled it away. There were layers of tape. The first layer didn't touch his skin. Spencer pulled it and gently unwound it from Aaron's head. The second and third layer also didn't touch Aaron's skin.

The last layer did. Spencer very slowly detached it from Aaron's hair, trying not to pull. Each time he removed a tiny length, he unstuck Aaron's thick dark hair from the tape. There was a wound on the back on his head; the blood had stopped the tape from sticking. Spencer was crying, the emotions welling up inside him for his friend were making him tremble as he freed Aaron from the darkness that his abuser had taken so much delight in.  
The tape stuck across his ear, again the blood running from his ears had partly unstuck the tape.

"Aaron, the tape... is on your skin now." Spencer whispered.  
Speaking was difficult. He could only now take light breaths. The iron band was tightening every second. He fought the urge to lie down. He looked at Aaron, helpless and afraid, and dying. How could he abandon him when he needed him so much? His shoulder was throbbing, and he knew that the entry wound on his back was bleeding. He thought he had done some bad damage when he pulled himself off the pipe.

He turned aside from Aaron, and coughed bloody sputum onto the floor.

_Please, Morgan, be quick. I don't think we can hold out for long..._

"Tell...me..." he breathed, "If you...want me to...stop."

"See you..." Aaron said. Spencer pulled at the tape. Aaron flinched.

"Shall I stop?"

Aaron shook his head. Spencer continued to pull the tape from his eyes. Aaron's tears had collected in his eye sockets, and the tape had not stuck there. Between his eyes, on the bridge of his nose, the tape was stuck hard. There was a deep cut there. Spencer remembered seeing it before. He cried as he pulled the tape back, and the cut started to bleed again. The last part, across his other eye, came away easily. Spencer threw the tape away, and cradled Aaron in his arm again.

"It's gone...now you can ...open your eyes..."

Aaron felt the last piece of tape come away from his face. He concentrated his weak power on opening his eyes. He heard Spencer say the tape was gone. He felt blood from the wound on the bridge of his nose run blood onto his eyes.

He softly whispered to Spencer, "Can't open...blood..." The effort of speaking made him light headed. He thought he might faint again. He heard a frightened whimper, and it took time before he realised it was his own distress, his own fear that he could hear.

Spencer tenderly wiped the blood from Aaron's eyes, and watched as his lashes trembled against his cheeks. Very slowly, Aaron opened his eyes and looked up at Spencer.

Aaron saw the wound and the tear in Spencer's shirt, and his stomach tightened. He felt Spencer's pain on top of his own, and his eyes rolled upwards. Spencer saw the movement, and fear clutched his heart.

"Aaron...stay with...me." he breathed. "Aaron, don't...die on...me now!"

Aaron refocused on the man who was holding him. His wide dark eyes filled with tears of empathy for his friend. What pain was he going through for him? Why? Tears, thick with blood fell from the corners of his eyes and ran down the sides of his face and into his hair.

Spencer leaned his head back against the wall. He wanted to call Morgan, tell him to hurry, but he had left the phone across the room. He didn't think he would make it the few yards to retrieve it.

_Morgan...Morgan...hurry..._

Spencer felt Aaron move in his arms, and he looked down at him again. He was so afraid that he would lose him here, before help arrived.

"I'm here, Aaron. Don't...you die on ...me."

"Dave."

"Dave's ok...he's ok."

Aaron released a shuddering breath, and relaxed on Spencer's lap. Spencer's stomach lurched.

"Don't you...die. Stay with me...please..."

Spencer cried, his tears falling onto Aaron's face. Aaron felt a deep distress watching his friend weep for him. With all his strength, he lifted his hand and touched Spencer's tears. Spencer sobbed and held Aaron's wrist.

"Help is coming." Aaron said softly. "Please...don't cry."


	16. The Killing Room

Chapter 16  
The Killing Room

"_**I love the old way of poison, where we too are strong as men." – Euripides, in the play 'Medea'.**_

Morgan was wearing a groove in the pavement outside the Bennisson place waiting for Emily and Garcia to join him. He was well aware that delay could cost a life, the life of his fellow agent. When his phone rang, he jumped. He glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Reid. He quickly opened his phone. Maybe Reid had found something.

"Hey! What have you got?"

When there was no reply from Spencer, Morgan frowned at the hand set.

"Reid? Reid is that you?" He was supposed to be at the BAU, but he obviously wasn't. "Where the hell are you? ...Reid, answer me Reid!"

There was a long pause before Morgan heard an answer. Then Reid sounded distant and his voice was trembling.

"Derek...please...please help..."

Morgan heard a clatter as the phone was dropped.

"Reid!" Morgan shouted. But he had a horrible feeling he wasn't going to get an answer. He cut the connection and called Garcia.

"Hey, Princess, what was Reid doing when you left the BAU?"

"Pacing and mumbling. Why?" Garcia sounded hesitant. "He knew not to go anywhere."

"Well he has." Morgan said. "He's left his cell open. Can you trace it?"

"Not from here. I'll get back to the BAU. Should only take a few minutes." Garcia said. "What's happened?"

"He just called for help, and I don't know where he is." Morgan was very worried, and his voice was shaking. He was sure that Garcia wouls be able to hear it. He unlocked his car "He's stopped talking."

"I'm going now." she said.

"I'll meet you there." Morgan started up the car and turned round in the road, heading back to the BAU.

"Why can't you just do as you are asked?" Morgan shouted in exasperation. "Where the hell did you go?"

-0-0-0-

Spencer sat quietly with his head against the wall, staring straight ahead. Aaron was on his left side with his head and shoulders on Spencer's lap. He was leaning back slightly onto Spencer's legs, and he was supported by Spencer's arm around him.

His breathing came in shudders, and he could feel his body shake with each heart beat. A steady dripping of blood from his ears and eyes, and a constant stream from his smashed nose made a crimson pool in Spencer's lap. He was haemorrhaging badly; he was in desperate need of fluids. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew what electrolyte depletion was, and he knew Ricin caused it. He knew there was no antidote. If the dilution he had been given was enough to kill him, no amount of hospital care would help him. He blinked the blood from his eyes and turned his head so that he was looking up at Spencer. The red patch on his shirt was growing. Spencer's breathing was erratic and painful. He was frightened for him. Very slowly he reached his arm around Spencer's waist and held him. Spencer looked down at his friend.

"Don't be...afraid, Aaron...he'll be here soon..." He tightened his hold on him. He hated that Aaron was naked. He wanted to cover him before the others arrived, but looking round there was nothing for him to use. The pool of blood around Aaron's hips was growing, and Spencer was at a loss as to what he should do.

"Spencer..." Aaron's voice could barely be heard even in the silence. "Spence..."

"Don't try and ...speak, Aaron. Save ...your energy..."

"Want...to tell you..." Aaron was gripped by paroxysms of coughing. He wanted to move off Spencer's lap, but Spencer held him, gently rubbing his back. Aaron vomited black gritty blood, and tears mixed with the blood dripping from his eyes.

"Oh god..." He leaned closer to Spencer, Spencer's arm held him tenderly. "Need to tell you..." but he couldn't speak, and he retched and heaved. He cried out in agony as muscles twisted inside him, and burning acids washed through his skinned mouth. He turned and looked up at Spencer again. He couldn't see him properly through the blood and tears.

"...dying...need to tell you...first..."

Aaron's body was closing down. He had to tell Spencer before he died. Spencer moved his hand to support Aaron's head, pushing his fingers through his hair. He held him, drawing up his knees, pulling him closer.

"Tell me..."

"Spencer...I love you..."

"Oh god Aaron..." Spencer's body shook with helpless weeping. He lowered his head to Aaron's and rested his forehead in Aaron's hair. "Oh Aaron, Aaron..." Spencer was overcome. He pressed as close as he could, trying to protect his friend from the cold of the early morning, and to try and give him some dignity. "Oh I love you, Aaron..." He enclosed Aaron's cold shaking body as much as he could, trying to warm him with his own body heat. "Don't die, Aaron...Please, don't die..."

They both heard the door open; they both hoped it was Morgan.

It wasn't.

Nixon walked over to them, glancing at Markus's body on the way past. Without speaking, he gripped Spencer's hair and pulled the two injured men apart.

"Aaron!" Spencer breathed his name as they were dragged apart.

Aaron rolled onto his back without a sound, one hand on his chest, the other reaching for Spencer.

"Spence..." he whispered, his broken fingers trembling.

Spencer was dragged away, and pulled onto his feet. Nixon pushed him against the wall and moved his hand from Reid's hair to his neck.

"You killed Markus. I kill you."

Spencer stared at the man, defiance in his hazel eyes. His hand pulled at Nixon's wrist.

"He was a rapist...tried to kill me..." he said softly. The hand on his throat tightened; he felt himself go dizzy, and his hand dropped away.

It was Aaron that saved him.

"Don't...touch...him..." Aaron spoke with as much anger as he was feeling. Although his voice was racked with pain, and was barely more than an exhalation, it was filled with the rage overflowing from within him. His head was tilted back, watching Nixon throttle Spencer. Nixon released Spencer's neck and floored him with a punch to the stomach. Spencer bent forward and fell to his knees with a soft moan. Nixon returned to Aaron.

"You still alive!" he said, surprised. "Not for long, though, by the look of you."

"Leave him alone!" Spencer hissed through his teeth.

Nixon laughed. "Just listen to yourselves giving me orders!" he said. He picked up Aaron's feet, and dragged him over to the chair where he had been bound for yesterday's test. He lifted the helpless man, and sat him on the chair. Aaron moaned as the pain exploded within him, helpless as Nixon restrained him as he had the day before. Aaron's head hung forwards against the tape holding him, the blood dripping from his face. Spencer watched powerlessly from where he had fallen. His heart was breaking, and he could do nothing.

"Please..." he said. "Please, leave him alone now."

Nixon shook his head in mock sadness. "Resorting to begging now are you?" He laughed. "I'm about to kill him. Watch carefully!" He turned to the table, and began to check the Ricin vials. He needed two today.

Spencer pressed his hand on the wound in his chest. It was bleeding now, and the iron band around him tightened still more. He breathed in little gasps as he crawled across the floor towards the chair.

Nixon had his back to them, preparing the next dose ready to tip into Aaron's throat. He doubted the validity of any results he might get from this test, but now he had a new volunteer. He smirked to himself at the thought. Two Feds. Strong tough men the best kind of test subjects. Although, saying that, this new one didn't look that tough!

Spencer picked up the bar that Markus had hit him with, and concealed it under his body as he crawled closer. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he had to do something. He looked at Aaron's back, and saw the teeth marks for the first time.

_Oh Aaron, you have suffered so much...I won't let you suffer any more..._

The thought gave Spencer an extra flow of energy. Using the back of the chair, he pulled himself to his feet. His head was swimming, and the ache to the side of his head where Markus had hit him was blinding him, but the thought of Aaron being hurt again, so close to dying, kept him on his feet. He lifted the bar and rested it on the back of the chair. He held the end of the bar with his right hand, and gripped it half way along with his left.

Nixon turned around. In each hand he held a vial of Ricin. Spencer weakly lifted the bar and swung it at him. Nixon grinned and held his hands up to block, and easily knocked the bar out of Spencer's grip.

Spencer sank to his knees in defeat, but he looked up as he heard Nixon scream. He was leaning back on the table, staring at his hands. A trickle of blood ran down his wrists onto his shirt sleeves.

"No! Oh no no no!"

He fell forward onto his face as the Ricin entered his blood stream through the cuts on his palms. He screamed horribly as he began to bleed from his mouth and nose, his body convulsed, and his back arched and twisted.

As he died in the way he had wanted Aaron to die, Spencer pulled the tape from Aaron's ankles and chest. Gasping for breath, he knelt by his side and embraced him, resting Aaron's head on his shoulder, and pulling his dying body against his own.

Spencer passed out, and the pain he was suffering drifted into the mist.


	17. Today and Forever

Chapter 17  
Today and Forever

_**Sleep is good, death is better; but of course, the best thing would to have never been born at all." - Heinrich Heine**_

Morgan drove like a mad thing back to the BAU. In his mind he heard over and over Spencer's few words, so faint, and frightened. He left rubber on the ramp as he screamed into the car park, and parked next to Emily's car. He paced frantically as he waited the ten or so seconds for the lift to arrive.

He ran from the lift, across the walkway, to Garcia's bunker. Garcia was there bent over the keyboard, as Emily and JJ leaned over, watching her.

"Anything?" yelled Morgan, heading through the door. "You found him yet?"

"Just triangulating now." Garcia said. "I think it's the same place, Derek!"

"Same as what?"

"It's the factory with the conversion drawings I saw on Abram Nixon's computer. I have the address." She turned and gave Morgan the address. "It's a disused quarry and brickworks, west, over the Chopawamsic." She stood. "I'm coming."

"No, Garcia. You can't." Morgan said. "You're not a field agent. You can't carry. You need to stay here."

Garcia had tears in her eyes. Morgan put his arms around her and drew her close. "We wouldn't have found him without you. That is what you are good at. This is our thing." He kissed the top of her head, and the three agents left at a run. She watched them go, with tears in her eyes.

Morgan sat in the drivers set, and Emily rode shotgun, with JJ in the back. They all had a personal fear of what they were going to find, but only Morgan had heard the desperation in Spencer's voice

It was along drive through wooded and uninhabited wilderness. They crossed the 95, and headed through the Prince William Forest Park. Once through the park, the terrain was more difficult, the forest roads narrow and poorly maintained.

The factory had closed five years before, and the workers had moved on. They came across little groups of houses, boarded up and run down. This, Morgan thought, was a perfect hide away for a commune. Some of these houses could be restored for the followers, and there was land for self sufficiency.

He could never understand why people, normal, intelligent people, would follow such deranged megalomaniacs. He had spoken briefly to some of the released hostages, and they had all remarked on the cruelty that the leader of the gang had shown theFBI man. Why would anyone be taken in by a man like that?

Morgan had no answer, but he knew people did follow men like that, and often, would die for them. His train of thought was brought back to the cry for help he had heard from Reid, and his knuckles whitened a bit more on the wheel, and his foot pressed down a bit more. He hoped that Reid would still be there when they got there, and that his phone hadn't simply been left there by the UnSub. He voiced his fear to Emily.

"If the UnSub was going to do that, wouldn't he try to lead us away from their commune HQ?" she said reasonably.

"Yeah." was all Morgan said. Of course, Emily was right. His mind wasn't working as it should, and he tried to think his way out of the depressing circle that his mind was in.

"The UnSub may not know about the phone." JJ said.

Morgan sighed. "We won't know anything until we get there. Gideon always said not to hypothesise ahead of the facts," he said, "And we won't know any facts yet, and we won't until we arrive at the scene."

Morgan drove over a little single width bridge crossing the Chopawamsic Creek. He glanced at the Sat-Nav, and turned left. The vegetation was becoming sparser and unhealthy looking as the soil changed from rich and fertile to chalky.

"We must be getting close to the quarry now." said Emily. "Look at the soil."

_We're not far off now, Kid. Hang on a little while longer..._

When they finally arrived at the brickworks, Morgan left the SUV among the trees. He didn't want to draw attention to their presence. The three agents alighted, and drew their weapons. It was deadly quiet. There was no sound of birds or wildlife. JJ thought it could be because the vegetation was poor, and so food sources would be scarce. But even knowing this, it didn't detract from the eeriness of the old factory. She felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine. She turned to Emily.

"Is it just me," she whispered, "Or is this place creepy?"

"It's creepy!" Emily said. "I don't know why though."

"Too quiet." said Morgan. He was probably right.

It was a huge place, with many out buildings. It was going to take a while to search it. Morgan looked round for any signs of another vehicle.

"You go that way," Morgan said to Em and JJ."See if you can find another vehicle, or any signs that one has been round here in the last couple of days." He found that he too was whispering. The air itself seemed to suck up sounds. It was getting warm, but the breeze was drawing white quarry dust up into the air, and it absorbed the sounds of their footsteps as they explored the outside of the building.

-0-0-0-

Inside, Spencer had woken. Sleep apnoea, brought on by the ever tightening iron band around his injured chest, woke him suddenly. He took several shallow breaths, and drew Aaron closer to him. Aaron's skin was turning blue, as the Ricin broke down his blood cells. He felt cold to the touch. His breathing was fitful and erratic. But he was breathing, and Spencer could feel his heart beating against his own chest. But he was afraid that if Aaron stayed asleep he would rift away into death without a fight. His hand moved gently up and down his back.

"Aaron, please wake up." he whispered. His voice was low and guttural, and sounded unfamiliar. "Aaron, he's gone. He's dead."

Spencer felt a shudder run down Aaron's spine, against the hand he held on his back. Aaron moaned softly, and Spencer felt the soft vibration on his neck where Aaron was resting.

"Don't sleep, Aaron...you must stay with me..."

He made an effort to lift his head from Spencer's shoulder, and open his eyes. He could do neither. It hurt too much. His arms hung loosely by his side, and he longed to bring them up and return Spencer's embrace. But the only movement he was capable of was to softly nuzzle his face in Spencer's hair.

Suddenly his stomach twisted. "Sick..." he managed to whisper. He didn't want to be sick on Spence. Ignoring the pain, he pulled away and vomited on the floor again. Tears and blood ran from his eyes and smashed nose, and his hurt insides sent waves of impossible pain through him.

"Oh god...Spence...help me..." he whimpered. "Hurts..." A soft cry of agony, and Spencer held him as he retched and heaved blood, thick and black, onto the floor. "Help..." He shook with cold and shock, and Spencer held him.

"I won't let you go, Aaron." he said, clinging to him. "I've got you, and...I won't let you go."

The shallow breathing was not enough to sustain Spencer, and the light headedness he was sure would make him faint. He pulled Aaron against him again, embracing him deeply, and as he felt Aaron relax in unconsciousness as he rested his broken body on him, Spencer let out a small anguished cry, and fainted.

-0-0-0-

Not many minutes later, a torch beam flashed around the room.

"Oh no! Oh my god, Morgan!" Emily cried. "Morgan. I have found them."

Her voice broke down into horrified sobbing as she saw her two colleagues. Morgan ran to stand beside her.

"Oh my good god in heaven!" he said softly. "Oh god..."

For just a second, Morgan and Emily froze, not quiet believing the evidence of their own eyes. Blood was everywhere, and the two obviously dead men lying in the mess had added their own life blood. One man's face was missing, probably shot away. The other was contorted and twisted, appearing to have died during a seizure.

Further away, near the far wall were two people, one kneeling on the floor, the other on a wooden chair. Morgan couldn't see from where he was who they were, but they were holding each other in an intense embrace. Neither was moving, and the only sound was the steady dripping of blood into the widening pool that surrounded them.

Morgan's heart was in his mouth as he led Emily and JJ across the room towards them.


	18. Rescue 2

Chapter 18  
Rescue 2

_**Friedrich Nietzsche**__** said, "**__**Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil.**__** "  
**_  
Morgan knew deep down that the two men were Aaron and Spencer, and as he closed in, his thoughts were confirmed. He raised his hand to indicate to Emily, who had now been joined by JJ, that she should wait.

Aaron was sitting on the chair. The seat of the chair was scarlet with fresh blood, and the blood was steadily dripping into the pool under the chair. He looked as if he had been severely beaten about the face and head. It would have been hard to recognise the once strong handsome features, now swollen bruised and bloody, had he not been expecting it to be him. His thick dark hair was matted with dry blood and there were cuts on his back that looked like bites. Both of his arms hung loosely by his side, and one of his hands was crushed and broken. The thing that made Morgan's stomach knot deep inside was the blood tracks from his eyes; Aaron's tears were of blood. Aaron was naked, cold and pale. His fingers and lips were blue. Morgan took off his coat, and leaning Aaron forward slightly, he wrapped his coat around him.

Aaron's head was resting on Spencer's shoulder, facing outwards, eyes closed. Morgan stretched out a shaking hand, and felt for a pulse in Aaron's neck. There was one, weak and thready, but there all the same.

He called over his shoulder, "Call the paramedics. Hotch is alive. I'm checking out Reid."

He heard Emily on the phone as he felt for a pulse on Spencer's neck. Like Aaron's, it was there, but only just. He had been hit with something around the head, because his ear was split and bleeding, but by far the worse was the bloody patch on his back, and a smaller corresponding patch on his chest. It wasn't a through and through gunshot wound, it looked more like he had been stabbed. Morgan swept his torch around the floor, and saw the broken pipe, which shone with deep red in the flashlight.

Very carefully, Morgan unwrapped Reid's arm from around Aaron, and, as Emily held Aaron steady on the chair, Morgan gently laid Reid back onto his arm, and he lifted him away from the chair and carried him to a clear area where there was no blood on the floor.

As he laid him out on the floor, he pushed his hair off his face, and loosened his clothing. Morgan could feel Spencer's body shake with each breath he took, and even in his sleep, his face contorted in pain as his injured lungs took in air.

"That's good," he said to Reid, "Just keep on breathing, you'll be ok." He touched Reid's face with the back of his hand. Reid's eyes fluttered slightly as if he was trying to open them.

"Aaron...Aaron is that you?" He lifted a trembling hand towards Morgan.

"It's Derek." he said. "We've called the medics. You're going to be fine." He beckoned JJ over. "I have to go and get Hotch, you hold on here. "

JJ sat beside him, and took his hands in hers. Spencer looked up at her.

"JJ, is Aaron...ok?"

"He's breathing, Spence." she said. "I don't know how bad he's been hurt though."

"They gave him Ricin!" he said, his eyes welling up with tears again. "I think he's dying, JJ. Please," he sobbed, "Don't let him die. I...I love him..."

JJ was quite overcome with the emotion that flowed out of Spencer. She raised him into a sitting position, and held him close, and her tears fell into his hair.

"The medics are on their way, Spence." she said, her voice broken with sobs "And they'll do everything possible to pull Hotch back."

She closed her eyes' and tried not to think of what the team would be without Hotch holding it together. They needed him. He had to survive this and come back.

Morgan had gone back for Aaron. Emily was holding him much as Reid had been. She had pulled the coat around him, and she had rested his head on her shoulder and tears of empathy ran down her usually impassive face. She was holding him with both arms around him, instinctively rocking him gently. When she saw Morgan return, she drew away from him, allowing Morgan to lift him in his strong arms. Morgan tilted him against his body, so that Aaron's chest was against his own. Morgan felt the uneven juddering breathing of his colleague, and he said a prayer in his mind for the unit chief. He had been due back at work two days ago, after a long and traumatic recovery, and now he was more damaged than he had been after last time. In three days, the man had been reduced from strong, happy and confident to the fractured destroyed man now in his arms.

_Oh my god, Hotch, Aaron, how will you ever recover from this?_

Morgan knew what theses evil UnSubs had put him through. He could tell by the blood flow what they had done to him. He had seen the bites on his back, and the bruising and bleeding, and it was enough for Morgan to know that he had been violently assaulted. But more had been done this time. Aaron was haemorrhaging from his eyes and ears, and haemolysis was causing his extremities to turn blue and cold, and Morgan was fairly certain that he had been poisoned with Ricin.

The fact that he was still alive gave him a faint hope.

He carried him over to where Spencer was waking up, and after indicating to Emily and JJ to give him their coats, He laid him down on one, and covered him with the other.

"Emily, see if you can find water for him." Aaron's skin felt dry and brittle, especially his lips. Morgan brushed his hair from his face, and when Emily returned with some water, he tenderly dripped some onto his lips.

Aaron could taste the precious liquid, and tilted his head unconsciously so that the water trickled into his open mouth. Very carefully, a drop at a time, Morgan allowed him to drink. He sat on the floor behind him, resting Aaron's head on his abdomen, and folding his legs around his body, in an effort to warm him. Morgan was sure that he was hypothermic. Emily sat by his side, and rubbed his arms.

JJ sat with Spencer, Holding him and rocking him, and speaking softly to him. Morgan couldn't hear what JJ was saying, but he could see she was crying.

Morgan saw Aaron's eyes twitch behind closed lids, and his body suddenly became rigid in his arms. He knew that Ricin could cause convulsions, and as it took Aaron and held him, arching his back and throwing his head back, Morgan held the shuddering unyielding man closer, rocking him, and waiting for it to release him. Aaron bit down on his tongue, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Frightened sounds came from deep within him. Morgan noticed the haemorrhaging became more intense as his body jerked against him.

When at last the seizure released him, he whimpered and shivered and cried bloody tears.

Morgan enfolded him again. "I've got you, Hotch, Aaron, I'm staying with you. Spencer is ok, and Dave is ok. Little Jacky is ok. Hotch; you have to be ok too. You have to fight this. You are loved and needed. You have to fight this."

Morgan looked at Emily, who was wiping tears from her eyes as she massaged Aaron's legs and arms. JJ was rocking Spencer, and whispering to him.

In the distance, Morgan could hear the sirens of the medical team approaching.


	19. The Fight

Chapter 19  
The Fight

_**Stewart Alsop said of death,"**__**A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless to resist." **_

Morgan watched helplessly as Hotch's limp pale body was lifted onto the stretcher and the paramedics ran with it to the waiting ambulance. He hadn't moved since the convulsion he had suffered while lying in his arms, and Morgan had checked his pulse over and over again. He looked dead, and he was cold and blue, and still. Morgan had held his head steady, his fingers gently stroking his hair. Even in a coma, Morgan wanted him to know that he was loved and cared for. He told him that he was needed and loved. When the paramedics arrived, he hadn't wanted to move away, he wanted to stay with him. He knew Hotch was likely going to die; he didn't want him to die alone.

They had set up a wide bore saline drip and he was intubated. He had lost so much blood and fluid, he was close to circulatory collapse. They said that in the blood he had left, his red cells were being lysed by the Ricin poison. If the Ricin was strong enough, he would die. There was no antidote.

Reid had a haemothorax and a possibly fractured skull. They could keep him breathing until they got him to the ER. Then the pressure would be relieved, and they could repair and inflate his right lung.

That was what they told him. All of it went over Morgan's head. All he could think about was that they had to live. The image of them embracing in the blood soaked dirty room was seared onto his brain forever. He stood and watched the 'medics, his arms around Emily and JJ. They were clinging onto him, crying for their much loved friends. Morgan was aware that he had to be strong and support the team, even as Hotch would have done, and he fought against the tears that were threatening to fall. He couldn't stop them, and he watched as Reid was carried out to the ambulance and laid beside Aaron. He drew the women closer and lowered his head, and allowed the tears to flow.

-0-0-0-

There was no room for anyone to travel with Spencer and Aaron in the ambulance. It was a long and rough ride back to the Potomac in Quantico. Morgan, Emily and JJ got in the SUV and followed the ambulance back through the forest roads. Emily called Garcia, who promised to meet them there.

So now they were here again, waiting for a doctor to come and tell them whether their friends were dead or not. Morgan prayed silently, and tried to remember what Aaron had looked like last time he saw him. It was four days ago, when he had come into the BAU office to tell the team he was coming back to work. He had limped down the walkway in the bullpen, he had a rare and happy smile, and he had embraced his colleagues. Rossi had waved from his office, and they had drunk coffee together. Hotch had laughed and chatted with them, and then he had gone.

Morgan tried to remember his face, but all he could see was the beaten man he had held in that blood soaked room; eyes swollen almost closed, covered with blood and smashed and broken nose, bleeding skinned lips. He felt himself about to break down; he leaned forward and rested his face in his hands.

He had no illusions as to Hotch's recovery, if he was allowed to even have that chance. Even if he should get put back together by the surgical team, he could die of the Ricin tomorrow, next week, next month, a slow painful and agonising death.

He tried to put this out of his mind. If love was a cure, he couldn't die.

Emily stopped pacing.

"I can't do this any more. I'm going to visit Dave." she said, wiping tears from her eyes, and heading for the door. "Anyone coming?"

JJ and Garcia left with her, leaving Morgan alone in the relatives' room. He put his legs up on the bench he was sitting on, and laid down with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He cried for his friends, fighting for their lives, and here he was, doing nothing. He was about to get up and go and find a doctor to talk to when he heard the door opening. He quickly sat up, and looked at the doctors who were standing in front of him. One of them stepped forwards.

"Are you here for Dr. Reid?"

Morgan nodded, afraid to speak.

"He is out of surgery. He has a fractured skull, over his left ear. It was displaced," he explained, "But there was a little swelling. We have to wait for the swelling to go down, but the bone should go back as the swelling fades. He has several broken ribs from last time, and a cracked sternum. That will be painful in breathing for a week or two." He paused, and then, "The worst injury was the stab wound to his chest. He is breathing with both lungs now, but it took a long time to inflate the lung. Unfortunately he may never reach full lung capacity on that side. Does Dr Reid smoke?"

"No." whispered Morgan.

"Well that's good, because if he did we would recommend he gives up."

"When can I see him?"

"Well, he will be sleeping for the rest of the day. Tomorrow morning I think." he reached out to shake Morgan's hand. "Please ask if you have any questions." He smiled thinly at Morgan, and left. The second Doctor had been silent during the exchange. He still didn't speak. Instead he sat beside Morgan and looked at him.

Morgan felt sick. This was not going to be good news.

"You're waiting for news on Aaron Hotchner too, aren't you?"

Morgan felt the adrenalin rush through him. He didn't want to know. He wanted to run away and think everything was fine. He wanted to remember this moment, the time that he didn't have the bad news.

But instead he nodded at the doctor. He tried to make eye contact, but the doctor looked away.

"It's bad news, isn't it?"Morgan said shakily. "Has he died? Have we lost him?"

"He hasn't died. We are still working with him." he said. Morgan closed his eyes and raised his head to the ceiling. Hotch was still fighting. He still had a chance.

"We've fixed his hand. We have had to take grafts from his ribs to replace the smashed bones. We have realigned and strapped the fingers of his other hand. He has a broken cheek bone and orbit, which should mend ok. The rape damage we have stitched together. The bites on his back we have stitched. He had been severely beaten. To withstand a beating and rape like that is testimony to his strength and vitality." He stopped speaking. Morgan looked at him.

"But there's more, isn't there?"

"We have tested his blood, and the Ricin in his system is being metabolised. There is a low level still in his blood, and as you may know, there is no antidote. This Ricin is a lot less stable than that we have found in the past. But it is a lot more destructive and fast working."

"What does that mean?" Morgan asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"With this poison, the red cells are lysed within the body, and that causes haemorrhage. You may have noticed, Mr Hotchner was losing blood from his eyes and ears."

Morgan nodded dumbly.

"The internal blood loss, and that caused by the rape damage, has severely depleted his erythrocyte stock. He is also severely dehydrated, which makes the situation worse. We have put him on Erythropoietin therapy. This stimulates the red cell production. He is on saline and electrolytes. The excessive breakdown of the red cells causes a rise in potassium, which in turn interferes with nerve function. He has a healthy liver, which he will need to expel the waste from the lysed cells..."

Morgan held his hand up."Stop, please. I don't understand all this. All I want to know is, will he live?"

"I am sorry, Mr Morgan. The team are still working on him. He is in a deep coma, and he is still having seizures. We just don't know at this stage whether we can save him." The doctor put his hand gently on Morgan's arm. "Please, Sir. Prepare yourselves for the worst. I am so sorry."

Morgan looked into the tear filled eyes of the doctor.

"Please," Morgan said, his voice breaking. "Please save him...please..."

He pressed his hands to his eyes, tears falling from between his shaking fingers. He cried unashamedly and didn't look up as the doctor left him alone.


	20. Aaron

Chapter 20  
Aaron

"_**Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."**__** - **__** Norman Cousins **_

Hotch was out of recovery, lying on his back on the bed. His dislocated shoulder was replaced, and both hands were heavily bandaged. The plastic surgeon had rebuilt his nose, and he was breathing on his own. His eyes were not taped closed.

He was very pale, his cheeks sunken and his lips blue. He was still receiving electrolytes and nourishment through a drip, and regular blood tests monitored the Ricin level, Erythropoietin was administered according to the results. The Ricin level was dropping, and the blood count was improving. But Aaron's mental state was unknown until he regained consciousness.

When Morgan and the women arrived at his room, Dave was sitting by his bed in a wheelchair, holding his hand, and talking to him. They watched through the window, not wanting to break the scene. Aaron was laying unmoving, machines around him marking off the seconds of his fragile life. They could see that Dave was red eyed, and his cheeks were tear stained.

But it was good to see Dave up out of bed.

The team took it in turns to sit with Aaron. Jess of course wanted to be with him, so Emily and JJ had Jacky with them while Jess talked to Aaron in the hospital.

-0-0-0-

The doctors had said that he might never wake up, after the trauma he had suffered; they couldn't tell if he has had irreversible brain damage. Not until he woke. Morgan sat and stared at his boss. The swelling on his face had gone down, and the fractures healed. Apart from a few fading scars, he looked like Hotch again. The internal damage was healed as well as it ever would be, and the dressings removed from his rebuilt hand. The doctor had asked them if they would work to keep his fingers moving so that, should he wake up, he would have use of his hands. Morgan massaged his fingers, and moved them into a fist and out straight again while he talked to him. It had been three months now, and Hotch showed no signs of change. Morgan didn't cry any more. This felt almost normal now.  
He told Hotch about the last case they had worked. Dave and Spencer were back on the team now; they had profiled and tracked down a serial killer in Vegas, Spencer's home town. Morgan told him about the lights and the noise.  
"But we wanted you there, Hotch. We need you on the team, and we are missing you."  
He remembered the time when they worked their first case without Gideon. It was Morgan that pointed out that they were doing fine without him. This was different though. The space left by their unit chief was too big to simply close up as it had done when Elle and Jason left.  
"Only you can fill that space, Hotch. So come back to us."

-0-0-0-

As soon as Reid was well enough he spent part of each day by his bedside, talking to him and touching him. He couldn't get out of his mind the way that he had said 'I love you' back there in that terrible place. He hadn't told anyone. It was a dying man's words, and when he was better, he wouldn't want other people knowing. But as Spencer sat with him, his bandaged hand resting in his hand, he told him again that the love was reciprocated.  
"Aaron, I love you, and need you to come back. There is nothing to fear." he said. "There is a space in the world for you. So come back and fill it, please Aaron."  
Spencer too told him about the Vegas case.  
"You would have liked the CSI chief." he said. "His name is Gill, and I think he might know you by reputation. He asked where Agent Hotchner was."  
Reid massaged Aaron's fingers like Morgan did. "We do this so you can still use a firearm when you come back to work, Hotch." Sometimes, like now, Spencer couldn't hold back the tears.  
"I'll be back in just a moment." he said, and went outside to cry. If it was true, and he could hear everything, Reid didn't want to let him hear him crying.  
When he was done crying, he went back in.

-0-0-0-

Emily, Garcia and JJ always went to see Hotch together. Neither thought they could cope on their own. They sat either side of the bed, and held his hands.  
"He looks as if he's asleep." JJ said. She tilted his face so that she was looking straight at him. "I always just saw him as the boss, but I'd never looked any further than that." she said. "He's a good looking man."  
"Don't let Will hear you say that!" Emily tried to keep it light. In reality, she agreed with JJ. "Wake up, handsome!" she whispered in his ear. "And forget I said that!"  
Garcia smiled. "I'm going out with Kev again tonight." she said. "This could go a lot further. If there's a wedding, I want you there."  
"It will be interesting to find out what he does hear." JJ said. She picked up a comb and passed it through Aaron's hair.  
"We miss you, Hotch." Emily said. "We didn't start off on a very good footing, but you have been great to work with. And it's my belief that you want us to work together again. So please wake up.

-0-0-0-

Rossi talked mainly about the BAU as it used to be; a time when there was just him working alone. "It was a lonely job back then." he said. "I found it hard when I joined the team to understand what 'teamwork' really was." He sighed. "You are part of that team, Aaron. And you showed me how to be part of it too. Without you there, it's like trying to work with a missing limb."  
He told Aaron about the time when the rest of the team had tried to profile him from the contents of the boxes of things he had sent to the office before he moved in. He laughed. "I was listening outside to them trying to figure me out. Reid was saying how they shouldn't be in there, and then got carried away looking at a picture I had brought in to put on the wall." Dave laughed again at the memory. "You should have seen their faces when I walked in. They were so embarrassed!"  
Dave had brought some music for him again. It was the same as last time – Avalon, Roxy Music. He switched on the tape and left before the laughter gave way to tears.

-0-0-0-

The first few times that Jess visited, she just sat and cried. She knew she shouldn't, but that was all there was inside her to give. Slowly she got used to seeing the man she loved lying so still and helpless, and was finally able to talk to him. So she told him how she felt when Haley said she was going to marry him. "Aaron, I was so upset. I fancied you so much, and you only had eyes for her." She leaned over and kissed his impassive lips.  
"Wake up, Honey. I want to spend time with you."  
The next time she came in she brought Jack with her. She had asked the others to be there, because she didn't know how Jacky would react. Daddy wasn't scary any more; most of the tubes and drips were gone, and he just looked asleep. But he may be upset that he couldn't talk to him.  
She held his little hand and led him through the door. She hadn't told Jack where he was going, and his face lit up when he saw who was on the bed.  
"Daddy!" he yelled, climbing up beside him. "Daddy, I went to school today!" Jack stared at his Daddy's silent face. "Daddy not talking to me!" looking at Jess with a worried frown.  
"Daddy is asleep, and we are waiting for him to wake up." she said, ruffling his hair. "But he can hear you, Sweetheart, so you can talk to him."  
Jack told Daddy all about school. "I painted a picture of you at work." he said. "Next time I will paint you in bed." He wrapped his arm around his neck and put his face against Daddy's face. "Jacky love you, Daddy." he said. "When the bad man hurt you, I ran away."  
Jess wiped the tears off her face, then to her amazement, she saw tears on Aaron's face, pressing between his closed eyelids.  
"Aaron? Aaron, are you waking up?"  
She turned to the window. "I think he might be waking up!" she called to the others who were waiting outside.  
She turned back to Aaron, taking his face in her hands. His eye lashes trembled as he tried to open his eyes.  
"Jacky." he whispered softly.

-0-0-0-

**END**

**A/N – I don't enjoy the finishing off chapter. It could go on and on, but would always be the same. Anyway, he's waking up now, and so that's the end. The next story isn't a follow on.  
Thank you all my reviewers. New story very soon.**


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